


Proof

by rosymamacita



Series: First Kiss [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Grounder Politics, Happy!Raven, Mentions of Prostitution, Post Season 3, Weddings, bed sharing, jealous!Clarke, platonic bed sharing that is, political alliance, the Grounders made them do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Now that the heda line has fallen, The Sky People must ally themselves with the grounder tribes, but the grounders do not trust Wanheda, and they demand a marriage to prove her commitment. Abby refuses, saying that Clarke is already betrothed to Bellamy...





	1. Sacred Fire

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! To celebrate 1500 followers on tumblr and my first year of writing fan fiction, I'm accepting prompts in my Bellarke First Kiss series over on my tumblr http://rosymamacita.tumblr.com/ . Any universe. Any trope. Future, present, past. This was the first prompt, and to tell the truth, I think it's a multi chap. So, here we go. 
> 
> Anon: Hey, everyone has been asking about when bellarke will finally kiss. Can you write me a drabble of it happening how you imagine it? (also, my fav trope is fake marriage, so maybe if you could tie that in, like they have to kiss because they need to convince some other tribe they are a couple, for, some, crazy, ridiculously tropey reason)

Clarke should have gotten suspicious when the ambassador asked all the other council members and guards to leave the long house. Nothing had been set yet. They were almost there, agreeing to this square acreage of land and that level of medical access, but she knew that something was holding the council back. She stood between Abby and Bellamy, the crackling of their sacred fire the only sound as they solemnly filed out. When it was just the four of them, The ambassador looked at her with the steely eyes that matched the color of his long gray hair, his face grim and unrelenting.

“To seal this alliance, Wanheda must marry one of our people.” Clarke blinked. Sure she had not heard right. She looked at Abby and Bellamy and they both had the same stunned expression on their faces. 

The ambassador continued on. “She may choose either the Hainofi or the Hainofa, the prince or princess of our tribe. Either would be acceptable for alliance purposes, and as both have been raised to serve their people, they are willing to do their duty. We will perform the ceremony in front of our council and send the messengers to announce both the marriage and the alliance to all the tribes, immediately. None will doubt that it is true, and then we can continue with finalizing our alliance.”

The low ceiling pressed down on her as his words began to make sense. Clarke grabbed for Bellamy’s jacket and held on. Her words failed her. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in to his side. She felt a growl start low in his chest. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Abby said, and planting her feet and crossing her arms. Clarke found her breath again as her mother continued. “You are not using my daughter as some sort of figure head again. She stays with us.”

“We do not intend to use Wanheda as a figure head, Abi kom Skaikru. This is about unification. Our prince or princess will stay with your people with their retinue, all people of high status. Farmers. Crafts masters. Hunters. Some of your people will come live with us. People with skills to trade. Healers. Mechanics. Warriors. An even exchange. We will teach you. You will teach us. It is how we learn about each other. Marrying our people. That is how we become one people. I thought you would have known that.”

“No,” Bellamy said. That was all. Clarke looked up at him, at his dark glare aimed at the ambassador.

“Maybe we should consid—“ Clarke told him quietly, her words shaky. This was a really important alliance. They were alone out here now, since the coalition had dissolved when the Heda line had broken. This alliance of tribes could be the start of something new. Something good.

“No.” Bellamy continued to glare at the ambassador. His arm pulled tighter around her waist.

Abby stepped in between the ambassador and Clarke and Bellamy. “We’ll have to figure out some other way to unify our people, then. Clarke is engaged to Bellamy.”

Clarke repressed a gasp at her mother’s blatant lie. She looked up at Bellamy, and if anything his glare was fiercer, his grasp around her waist firmer. His jaw clenched and she felt the sudden desire to press her fingers to the muscles there to relax them. 

But they didn’t do that. They didn’t touch like that. They didn’t stand this close. And he never held her to his body the way he was holding her right now. 

Her fingers flexed in his jacket and she wanted to hide her face in his chest. Or she wanted him to look at her so she could see what he was thinking. She wanted. These feelings were so inappropriate. She should push off from him and face down the ambassador… but the ambassador was trying to make her marry some stranger! For an alliance! And now her mother said she was marrying Bellamy. And she didn’t want to let go of him. She just wanted to hold on.

“I apologize,” the ambassador went on, his eyes narrowed. “We heard about The Wanheda and her attachments in Polis.” Bellamy tensed against her. “Since the Heda died, we assumed she would be open to another political alliance.”

“Yes, well,” Abby raised her chin and straightened her back. “Bellamy and Clarke had a prior attachment.” Clarke knew her mother, and even though she couldn’t see her face, she knew by her body language, she was ready to fight.

But the Ambassador didn’t fight. He blinked, and looked Clarke and Bellamy up and down. His hand went to a long staff that had been resting against his chair. He played with it. “We have of course heard of Belomi kom Skaikru.” He let the words hang. 

Clarke dropped her hold of Bellamy’s jacket and found herself turning to the ambassador. Bellamy’s hands moved to her shoulders, as if he would stop her from standing between him and this ambassador that she suddenly mistrusted. 

“Make your point,” Clarke said, and her words were strong again, dark and threatening, even to her own ears. 

The ambassador still didn’t fight. He focused on Clarke now, ignoring both Abby and Bellamy. “You are Skaikru and do not understand our ways, so let me speak plain: I do not trust your motives.”

Clarke felt Bellamy take a step forward, she pressed back against him to restrain him, glad that the body language got through to him, without having to actually hold him back. She felt his anger, like electricity.

The ambassador went on as if he had not noticed, although Clarke was certain he had. “You continue to hold yourselves apart from us, above us. To try to gain advantage over us, while protecting those who have killed us.”

“You’ve been killing US,” Bellamy growled from behind Clarke. 

The ambassador shifted his gaze from Clarke to Bellamy. “We have been enemies.” It was an acknowledgement. “And you come to us in order to build this alliance, but refuse to marry our people to bring them together. This shows you are holding yourselves back, holding on to being our enemy. If you want to prove your commitment to this alliance, you must prove that you are not our enemy, but one of us.”

“You can’t have her,” Bellamy spit out, and his arm went around her waist possessively. It was wrong, wrong for her to feel a thrill at that. In this moment of delicate negotiation that could change the future of both their peoples. Clarke swallowed heavily.

“We can agree to bring your people to live with us. And send some of ours to live with your villages. We can join our people. It must all be their choice, though. We won’t force anyone to go. And we certainly won’t make anyone marry anyone, simply for a political alliance. I’m sorry. You’re right, we are Skaikru and that is against our ways.” She felt Bellamy’s arm twitch around her, because she was lying and he knew it. 

People on The Ark were married all the time for politics or genetic compatibility and it was just something they were expected to sacrifice for the sake of continued humanity. But she didn’t want that to be the way they did things on the ground and she wasn’t having them go back. Clarke wanted to grab his arm and squeeze it to keep him from saying anything, but she couldn’t make a move, lest the ambassador take it as a plot. Which it was, dammit. Just like saying she and Bellamy were betrothed when they hadn’t even kissed, ever. They weren’t like that. No matter what anyone wanted. No matter what anyone thought. 

She forged on before Bellamy or her mother could say anything. “Of course if any of our people form attachments to any of your people or vice versa we will encourage that and it will serve for the unification of our peoples, but I refuse to use my people as game pieces. They get a choice. Your people get to choose, too.”

The ambassador smiled slowly. “And I suppose that means that you get a choice?”

Clarke felt like she had been caught in a trap. She nodded. “Yes.”

“And your choice is now this war criminal and was never the Heda.”

Clarke saw red. “Bellamy is no more a war criminal than any of your warriors who attacked us the moment we landed and continued to do so…” her words faded as she realized that Bellamy was speaking at the same time.

“She loved Lexa. You don’t get to insult her honor saying her love is all for political gain. And if you do, we will end these negotiations right now, and find better allies.”

Clarke found herself turning in her arms to stare up at him, open mouthed. He was glaring at the ambassador. Defending her. Defending her love for Lexa. She felt tears rise.

“Not political?” The Ambassador said, and anger tinged his voice for the first time. She didn’t need to look away from Bellamy to see it. As if she could look away from him. She kept staring and so she saw the narrowing of his eyes and the twitch of his jaw when the ambassador spat out disbelievingly, “prove it.”

Bellamy looked at her then and Clarke’s breath stopped.

“Wait a minute,”Abby said. “They don’t have to perform for you to prove how they feel about each other. It’s personal.”

“This is not personal,” the Ambassador said coldly. “It is known that she entertained The Heda to keep her people safe. These assignations are political in nature. What Wanheda does is no longer personal. She speaks for your people. She lives for your people. Sex. Love. Marriage. Alliance. Everything she does is for them. We know about Polis and believe what she did there was all for political reasons. We do not trust her claims of love and attachment. These are excuses to avoid committing to our people and to keep power over us. We cannot allow it to continue.”

“She’s a girl!” Abby cried, “A woman. She’s my daughter, she’s not some figurehead up on a throne. She’s a real person. She deserves to get to love who she loves.”

Clarke knew she should answer them, defend herself, support her mother, something but she couldn’t look away from the warmth of Bellamy’s dark amber eyes, his concern for her. She found herself shaking her head without knowing why. His eyebrows drew together, asking her a question that she… she didn’t know.

“I’ll prove it,” he said.

“What?” Abby said, short. 

He looked at Abby and then the Ambassador and Clarke watched as his throat bobbed with his swallow. “I’ll prove this isn’t political,” the muscle in his jaw clenched. This time she did reach up and run her fingers over the tension. He looked down at her, his eyes dark now, full of emotions that were unidentifiable. “I’ll prove it,” he said, barely audible, his lips forming the words. 

Then he sighed. “Clarke.” Bellamy brushed her hair back and his hand caressed her face, his thumb sweeping over her cheekbone. He smiled sadly, just for her. “This isn’t…” he whispered, fading off, before leaning down and kissing her.

She knew she shouldn’t fall so completely into him. They were in the middle of a political council. The ambassador was clearly against her. The fate of the alliance and their people hung in the balance, and his words hung in her head. “This isn’t…” he’d said. This isn’t what? Real? Right? Anything meaningful? But then she stopped caring where she was and what it meant and she just allowed the space between them to disappear and the space inside of her opened up and let him in. He was so warm in her arms, so solid. Her heart beat in time with his, his scent filled her head, the velvet of his tongue against hers melted everything that had been keeping them apart. She couldn’t deny it any more. They were more than together. Her heart was his, and she wanted the rest of her to be his and she wanted him to be hers. It wasn’t political at all. It was just a stupid girl, in love, where she shouldn’t be. Always where she shouldn’t be.

“Bellamy…” she said against his lips and he pulled back. She would have chased his kiss but he still held her face, and he stared, shocked, into her eyes.

Into the silence after their kiss, the Ambassador spoke dryly. “You put on a pretty show but prove nothing.”

Bellamy closed his eyes in frustration and sighed, licking his lips. She wanted to bite them.

Abby scoffed. “What else do you expect them to do, screw on your council table?” 

Clarke stared goggle eyed at Bellamy, not really believing that her mother had just said that and Bellamy blinked back at her. It made her want to giggle. This was ridiculous. There was nothing about this meeting that was appropriate and for some reason she just did not care. Laughing might be better than any other emotion she was feeling. 

“Do not be vulgar,” the Ambassador said. “A kiss means nothing. Sex means nothing and can be traded with whomever. It does not make a lasting connection or prove an alliance.”

“What do you want from us?” Bellamy snapped.

“Prove that you are being honest with us. Prove that this alliance is not something that you can lie about and break at will.”

“That’s rich, considering how the grounders have broken their alliances with us,” Bellamy said, his lips twisting. “What proof do you offer us that you won’t betray us, again? You want Clarke as sacrifice but offer nothing in return. Sounds too much like what we’ve already been through with you people.” Clarke knew that Bellamy still held the grounder betrayals against them. She was afraid it would always be a problem with sky people grounder alliances. 

The ambassador held Bellamy’s gaze steady. “That is fair,” he said. “We owe you still for the betrayal at the mountain. Some of those you released were our own. We do not forget.” Bellamy jerked in her arms. She ran her hands over his back. He was not over it. “Our people will offer sacrifices,” the ambassador continued on. “When you return to your village, you will take with you our Hainofi and Hainofa, along with one of our healers and twenty valuable people with skills and knowledge. And they will be yours for you to do what you will with. Prisoners or guests or friends.”

“Or husbands and wives, I suppose? You intend your prince or princess for Clarke despite her connection to Bellamy?” Abby added. 

“No. I intend to see Wanheda and Belomi com Skaikru married in front of our council, and messengers sent out to all the tribes to announce both the connection and the alliance between our peoples. Our people will be your marriage gift—“

“People are not gifts!” Clarke snapped, spinning in Bellamy’s arms to glare at the ambassador. Bellamy dropped his embrace and Clarke wanted it back. 

“Consider them ambassadors. Assigned to your village.” The ambassador’s expression did not change.

Bellamy shook his head. “This makes no sense. How does marrying us here in front of the coalition do anything to further an alliance between our people? Why can’t you just send your… ambassadors with us? We’ll send ours to you. Join our people. No one has to get married.”

“What I see is a leader who wants to keep her options open.” The Ambassador let his eyes travel over their bodies, both of them, up and down. 

She put a hand on Bellamy’s arm to stop him from arguing again. “I get it.” And she did. Her stomach started fluttering with butterflies. They were serious about this. “They think I am going to marry someone from another clan to ally with them. They think my relationship with Lexa was only to keep my people safe, not an actual attachment. They think I use… my body to cement alliances.”

“How dare you!” Abby declared. She was back to standing between Clarke and the Ambassador.

“Do you really think she fucked Lexa to keep her people safe?” Bellamy growled.

The Ambassador raised one eyebrow and smiled. She wasn’t sure if she was starting to like him better or starting to really hate him. “And I wouldn’t put it past you, either, Belomi com Skaikru.”

“Excuse me?” Clarke decided hate.

“There are tales and songs, coming from the Azgeda, about the brave warrior who freed the mountain prisoners, who was left to die and persevered against all odds. The hero of the cages. The breath of freedom. They wanted the head of Wanheda to gain power over death. The Azgeda want you. They want to milk the power of Belomi Klir Skai.”

Abby choked.

“Milk?” Bellamy asked, his voice rather strangled. “Do they mean…?”

The ambassador’s eyes tracked down past Bellamy’s belt.

They did. 

“No.” Clarke said. “No. That’s not going to happen. I’m marrying him. Don’t touch him. He is not the Wanheda. He is not this Klir Skai.”

“They think he brings good fortune and protection. We think he would do anything to keep his people safe including as you put it, use his body to ally with the Azgeda, who are our enemies. His body and his good fortune.”

Bellamy snorted. She knew he thought he brought nothing but pain but he didn’t. He was what made all the pain worthwhile. She felt tears rise and blinked them away. “He’s mine.”

The Ambassador nodded. “I believe that your attachment to Belomi Klir Skai is true. But that did not stop you in Polis. So you marry him and make it known to all, including Azgeda that in order to have the Klir Skai, they must face the wrath of Wanheda.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Bellamy’s growl was threatening.

The ambassador smiled and shook his head.

“No one’s going to fight me for you, Bellamy,” Clarke said and he looked down at her, shocked. Everything about this meeting had become shocking and she was quite sure she’d react later to it all, but for now, they could only forge through. “Because they’re going to know that we’re together,” she swallowed again against the lump rising in her throat. “And where one goes, so does the other.” She reached for his hand, held on with both hands. Looked up at him and nodded her question. He pressed his lips together and nodded back. “So we’ll marry in front of your council, and you will send the messengers to tell all the clans, not just about the marriage, but also about our alliance, because your numbers and strength will make the Azgeda think twice about challenging me for… Klir Skai. Our good fortune will stay with us.”

“Yes. This is acceptable. Our people will join and we will prove to all how strong we are. Together.”

“But the Azgeda would make better allies than enemies,” Abby added, her brows drawn together in concern. Was she fighting this idea?

“You will bring us with you into any alliance you make with anyone else. We know of your… friendship with the King of Azgeda.”

“Oh my god. They think I’m going to marry Roan, that’s what this is about.” She looked at Abby and Bellamy. They didn’t respond. Bellamy in specific went silent and still. Clarke’s heart stopped. Bellamy had thought she would marry Roan for an alliance. 

“Now, if you ally your people with King Roan, you ally ours with him as well. This is acceptable. We will not be left behind to be destroyed, as you move through the powerful leaders. Tie yourself firmly to your own people, and we can be your allies.” 

Clarke stared at him, fighting her rising emotions. He stared back, unflinchingly. “This is just about power plays for you, isn’t it?”

He raised his eyebrows. “This is about my people. I would do anything for my people. Sacrifice anything for my people. I thought you understood this. I thought you believed the same.”

The sound of the fire crackling grew loud again as the four of them stared at each other. Bellamy was the one to finally speak up. “We do, but there comes a time when doing the right thing is more important than doing whatever it takes for your people.” Clarke felt the three of them draw together on this. She nodded. It was true.

The ambassador cocked his head. “And is this not the right thing?”

Clarke took a deep breath and squeezed Bellamy’s hand. “It is.” It was. “When do you want us to say our vows?”

“Clarke—“ Abby started. 

Bellamy surprised her by interrupting her mother. “Abby, it would have happened anyway. We’ll do it here for the alliance, and when we get back to Arkadia, we’ll do it again for our friends and family.”

Abby closed her eyes. Was she regretting that she had committed them to this path? Clarke clung to Bellamy’s hand and looked up at him, nodding. 

“We’re ready. What do you need for your ceremony?”

The ambassador smiled slowly and raised his staff. He turned and banged the gong that was behind the ceremonial fire. The vibrations set off the butterflies in her stomach again.

“We have everything prepared, already.”

Bellamy laughed and she heard his nerves in his laughter. “So SOMEONE was getting married here tonight, is that it?”

The ambassador just kept smiling. 

When the doors to the long house opened again and an entirely different set of people entered, his attention was drawn to them as he gave instructions. 

Clarke turned to Bellamy, anxious. This was crazy, everything. “Bellamy…” she started not really knowing how to even begin. He looked at her, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes slightly panicked. He opened his mouth to speak when Abby stepped up close to both of them.

“Later,” she told them, pressing her lips together and looking first Clarke, then Bellamy directly in the eye. They couldn’t talk about it. Not one thing about it. 

Clarke Griffin was going to marry Bellamy Blake in front of the entire grounder world. 

She blinked up at him, and he looked at her, open mouthed. She was going to be his wife. 

“Your attendants will prepare you for the ceremony,” the ambassador said, his smile glinting rather evilly in the light of the sacred fire. “You might as well get to know them. They will come with you back to Arkadia as your new people.”

And with that, Bellamy and Clarke were swept apart, taken to different huts. Her last view of Bellamy was of him being taken through the back doors, staring back at her, his eyes wide.

Her heart swelled. She couldn’t breathe. Bellamy was going to be her husband.


	2. All In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Clarke must marry to cement the alliance with the grounders, to prove that the sky people will not join with their enemies... but the marriage alone is not enough to convince some. They are taken to a silent cabin, to prove their love before a witness.
> 
> If only Bellamy or Clarke had ever spoken of love before. If only they had ever addressed the deep feelings between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to maree

Clarke stood in front of a large, age dappled mirror in the middle of a low sod house. They had stripped her bare and washed her with scented water. It was strange to be in the center of a dozen women while they tended her. It was such a grounder thing. The sky people were much more modest and independent, but it was their ceremony, for their alliance, and she submit to their rules. The women moved around her, draping her in nearly sheer white cloth. They wrapped and pinned it around her so it emphasized her curves, but with layers and clever drapery, never showed a thing. She felt as if she were dressed in a cloud. And when she looked in the mirror, she saw a goddess staring back.

The women began on her hair, braiding tiny braids into a crown. It reminded her of the handmaidens in Polis, and the hours a day they spent on her hair, waxing and crimping and twisting her hair to make her the picture of Wanheda. Clarke breathed deeply, letting them do what they needed to for their ceremony. It was for the alliance, she told herself. Then they came at her with the makeup.

“No. No.” She put up her hands to stop them. “Please, no makeup. Please. Let me be myself for this.”

“Clarke, what’s the matter?” Abby had been given a blue robe to wear over her own clothes, but mostly had stayed out of the way of the determined women.

“Mom, I can’t wear the…” Clarke waved her hands about, suddenly feeling panicked. It was silly. All of this dressing up and it was the face paint that started to make her feel as if the walls were closing in. “Mom, I don’t want to be Wanheda. It’s my wedding.”

Abby looked at Clarke and looked at the women, all young and beautiful and braided, with strong makeup and dark eyes. “Oh,” she said. “No. No makeup for Clarke. Take out the braids. We…” she paused and Clarke could see the wheels turning. “We sky people, we come to marriage with only ourselves, to represent our… honesty and full heart. No makeup. Loose hair.” All lies. Sky people wore fancy makeup and hair and dresses passed down and hoarded in the backs of closets, but not these dresses. Not this makeup. Abby nodded to make sure the women understood. They looked at her suspiciously. She went on. “I always hoped to get my daughter flowers. From the greenhouses. For her hair. Very high status,” she told them. “Here you have flowers everywhere, but there, it was only for the very highest status. A crown of flowers, yes?” Clarke’s eyes bulged. They might have gotten one small flower from the greenhouses. But a crown? It would be impossible. 

“Flowers…” one woman said, her smooth tan skin contrasting with the pale silver green eyes and thick black lashes. She nodded slowly. “Flowers represent death. The beauty fades. They die. A crown of flowers is fitting for the Wanheda. I have blue in my garden,” she said to another girl, who ran off immediately. “To match her eyes.”

Abby laughed. “Okay. That’s a compromise. It represents beauty and fertility to us. Death to you.”

The green eyed woman stared at Abby stonily. “It is the same thing.”

All Clarke knew was that they were putting away the bronze makeup and black eye shadow and loosening the braids crowning her head. She let out a breath. “Thank you.” The woman looked at her. “You are coming back to Arkadia with us? What is your name.” Clarke was desperate to make some connection. 

“Mila,” she said. “Yes. I am a hunter. I will be joining your people.”

“Thank you,” Clarke said. And she wasn’t sure what she was thanking her for. The flowers, the hair, coming to live with them. All these strange people were suddenly making her nervous. She wanted her own people, and instead she had these strangers, it almost felt like when she first got to Polis. She looked over at her mother. At least she had her. Bellamy didn’t have anyone. 

“Mom!” she said as the women came back in with flowers and started tucking them into the loose braid that crowned her head. “Mom,” she reached out with desperate hands. Abby took her hand.

“What is it, honey?”

Clarke looked at her. “Bellamy…” she said.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. The way you feel about each other will not change, okay? This ceremony is something the grounders needed. It doesn’t have to make anything different.” She knew her mother was trying to tell her something but it was the wrong thing. The women continued to weave sky blue flowers into her hair. How could Abby think nothing would change. Everything would change. Bellamy would be her husband and she would be his wife. They would be together.

She couldn’t say that. She couldn’t think it was real. It was real. For her. And for the grounders. And for Azgeda. And apparently for her prospects with anyone else. Was she giving up anyone else?

“Bellamy,” she said. She didn’t want anyone else. The women stared at her. She didn’t even know how well they spoke English. Would they send people who wouldn’t be able to communicate? “Bellamy,” she said again. It was the only word she could actually articulate.

“Yes, what about Bellamy, honey?” Her mom was treating her like she was feeble. To be honest she felt feeble. At a loss. She wanted Bellamy, but he was with strangers, with grounders. She was getting married, and he should be with her. 

“Bellamy is alone.” She clutched at Abby’s fingers. “He’s all alone. He doesn’t… he’s not—“ She couldn’t talk about Bellamy’s fears, his feelings about the grounders and his inability to trust them. Not with the women watching her now, tucking blossoms into her hair with deft fingers and clever eyes. “Go to him. Please, mom.”

“It is traditional for the groom and bride to each have at least one family member as they prepare,” Mila said. “A mother or father or sibling. A cousin at least. It is expected.” She nodded.

“I’m as close to a mother as he’s got,” Abby said. “If we had known this would be happening, we would have brought his sister. Or Marcus!”

“Or Miller or Jasper or Monty,” Clarke added. “Please, can my mother go to him. I don’t want him to be alone in this.”

“What about you?” Mila asked. “Don’t you need your mother before you make your vows?” 

“If I know he’ll be okay, then I’ll be fine.”

Mila pressed her lips together in a tight line, but nodded, instructing another woman in trigedasleng. “Follow her to Belomi Klir Skai.”

Abby hugged Clarke. “Make sure he’s okay,” Clarke said. Abby nodded. She knew. She had to know. After that, time seemed to speed up. She could breathe again. It didn’t take very long after Abby left that her hair was done and they draped a deep blue scarf over her shoulders, and walked her through the village, back to the long house. They stood outside of the closed doors, the retinue of ten or so women ranged around her. The rest of the village silent.

Then she heard the gong. It rang three times in a row and the heavy long house doors opened. Music started. The sound of string instruments wafted out. It was lovely. The women went first, solemn, until it was just her and Mila. “I will walk you, since your mother has gone to The Klir Skai.”

“Call him Bellamy, please,” Clarke said, but nodded as Mila tucked Clarke’s hand into the crook of her arm. They walked together into the long house to find it filled to capacity with villagers. The walls were hung with racks of candles and the air was filled with sweet smoky incense. The villagers murmured as they saw her, under the sound of the music. Clarke kept her eyes facing forward, toward where she knew the sacred fire burned.

The crowd parted, and she saw him. He was dressed in a loose black shirt and soft black pants, his hair tousled in black curls, and a fiery red scarf draped over his shoulders. Everything else but him went indistinct.

His face was a frozen mask, his jaw tight, until he saw her, and then she saw the stone of his face soften, he let out his breath and his eyes closed. When he opened them again, his chest expanded and a gentle smile curved his lips before he pressed it down again. Then she had reached him and she blinked up at him. . She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but she couldn’t. 

Mila turned to her. “I wish you good fortune and fertile blessings in your marriage,” she said and it had the ring of tradition, rather than real feeling, but Clarke didn’t care, not as long as Bellamy was there. 

And then Abby was pulling her close in a hug. Whispering into her ear. “Don’t worry about anything, Clarke, okay? We’ll figure out how to deal with it.”

Clarke pulled back to look at her, not quite sure what she was talking about. Feeling a bit dizzy, a bit unreal. She thought maybe she’d stopped breathing. She sucked in a lungful of the scented air and then blew it out. “I’ll be fine, mom. Is Bellamy okay?”

“He’s better now. You were right to send me to him.”

Her eyes flew to Bellamy and his were trained on her, his brows knit together in worry. He was worried about her, she knew it. The corner of her lips quirked up. His presence made everything infinitely better. 

Abby went to Bellamy and hugged him, and Clarke knew it would be okay. The nerves and worries and the oddness of it all, would be all right in the end because Bellamy and Clarke were together and she barely even noticed when she was urged forward to stand before Bellamy and the ambassador, or Abby was pressed back to stand with the crowd, everyone staring at them. Clarke just kept her eyes trained on Bellamy and let the ambassador drone on in trigedasleng, blinking as Mila translated behind her. He looked back at her, his eyes wide and his mouth soft. She couldn’t help but smile. He quirked his eyebrow at her, questioning. She winked at him. Winked. Couldn’t restrain herself. And he let out a soft huff of laughter and then Mila was behind her prompting Clarke to repeat promises of truth and commitment. She echoed back what was expected of her, in a near dream state, removing the blue scarf from her shoulders to drape it around his neck. Her words were followed by Bellamy’s deep, resonant voice.

“I promise to love you, by your side, true and strong, your partner as the sun goes down on the day and as the night rises. Holding your hand for every turning of the world.” He wrapped his red scarf around her shoulders and ran his hands down her arms until he could take her hands, and hold them in his own. She looked up into his eyes.

His eyes. His voice. His hand holding hers. These were real. The only real thing. She clung to his strong grip. And then he was pulling her close as the ambassador called for a kiss.

Bellamy wrapped her in his arms. “It’s okay,” he whispered against her lips, “it’ll be okay.” He kissed her so gently, and a cheer went up. The string instruments began playing and someone started beating a drum. Her heart beat in time. The gong rang and Bellamy pulled back but she wouldn’t let him go.

Was this how she kept him safe or did this marriage put him in danger? She felt Roan wouldn’t attack him, but could she say the same for the rest of the Azgeda? Or the Trikru? Or any of the other tribes? She was Wanheda. And he was Klir Skai. 

But it was done. They would be sending out the messengers and there would no longer be any doubt who Clarke cared for. There would be no keeping him apart from the grounder politics. She wondered if she had just not brought him with her to this council meeting, if she had brought Raven or Monty instead, then would this have even been an issue?

But then she looked up at Bellamy as he held her and watched the swirling crowd, and she realized, if she hadn’t brought him here, would it be a stranger in her arms right now? The thought was impossible. 

“Come on,” he said, he grabbed her hand and they walked through the crowd as flower petals were thrown at them. To think that a year before, she had been living in solitary confinement, drawing on the walls and floors with charcoal, and here she was today, on the ground, surrounded by fire and flowers and perfume and life and married to this man. This man.

They put them through their paces, had them walk around the village three times and then dance a simple dance in the center by the bonfire. She was married to Bellamy. The whole grounder world was celebrating and drinking and they shoved glasses of wine into her hand and that didn’t help one bit. Her head spun.

All her time trying to keep him out of these politics, trying to keep him safe, and here he was front and center, the biggest target in front of the whole world and she had to do it or risk peace and safety for her people. For the grounders too. 

The grounders performed for them. Dances in front of the fire, leaping over the flames sometimes, which brought gasps to her lips but otherwise she said nothing.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy said, leaning close and whispering in her ear. She grasped onto his bicep, and the warmth and solidity of it helped her focus.

“Bellamy, we’re married. They all know.”

His arm came around her, and pulled her to his side. She raised a hand to his chest. He was her husband. She could do that. They would expect her to do that. For some reason, counting his heartbeats steadied her, and the night stopped spinning in front of her and she tried to enjoy the festival. They were celebrating their marriage, but she knew it was mostly just to celebrate life. She wished they could have fun like that sometimes, back at Arkadia. She remembered Unity Day, way back when at the Drop Ship, and the lightness of the night. She wanted it back. She wanted something to live for, to enjoy, to celebrate.

“Ahem” the ambassador said, at Bellamy’s elbow. Clarke tensed. So did Bellamy. “Excuse me.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “What?” he said impatiently. How was he so good speaking to their people and so bad with ambassadors? The impatience poured off of him. 

“You are not done, yet.” The ambassador’s unflappable smile was tight this time. 

Abby leaned forward. “What more can you possibly ask of them?” she hissed across Clarke and Bellamy both. 

Clarke flexed her fingers in Bellamy’s shirt. She had been holding onto him for quite some time and she didn’t want to let him go.

The ambassador closed his eyes. His smile remained frozen on his face. 

“No,” Abby said, her voice full of horror. 

Clarke looked at her. Bellamy looked at her. Her eyes were wide in shock. “There is no need! They were married in front of all of your people. The messengers will go out to all the tribes!”

“They doubt still. They need more proof that this is real.”

“I was JOKING about them screwing on your council table. You can’t possibly expect…”

Clarke understood finally, and by the fierceness of Bellamy’s fist at Clarke’s hip, so did he.

“There has been too much in our pasts. The Heda died. Nia com Azgeda died. The City of Light destroyed Polis. Even the mountain died. They do not trust you to not continue our destruction. They do not trust just your words. They must have proof that you are mated in truth. You must consummate before our witness.”

Clarke’s mind was whirling. They wanted her to have sex with Bellamy in front of the council. They had never even really kissed, not for real, not just for them, and now they had to have sex for an alliance.

Maybe the grounders were right. Maybe her relationship with Lexa had been just about power plays and politics. She found herself resting her head on Bellamy’s chest, over his heart. She sighed. No. That wasn’t true. Her feelings had been real. She wished sometimes she didn’t have them, that’s how real they were. 

Bellamy was holding her, his arms giving her comfort but not confining her. She had bowed before the coalition, because Lexa demanded it of her. She had given up her pride and freedom to keep her people alive. She looked up at Bellamy and he was looking back down at her. 

“I’ll do it,” Clarke said.

Bellamy shook his head and glared darkly at the ambassador. “We won’t. We won’t fuck in front of your council.”

The ambassador sighed. “Not in front of the council. Just one representative. Odun. The Ancient One.” He pointed and they looked at where he indicated. A tiny, wizened woman sat across from them on a pad of leather and cushions. She was surrounded by young girls with flower necklaces, too busy watching all the virile dancers leap over the fire. But Odun looked at them, and her warm black eyes glinted. She nodded and smiled at them, showing a toothless grin in her nut brown face. 

“Odun has been our mother for generations. She is a midwife and spirit guide, a chaperone, a healer. She can be trusted to be unobtrusive, and the council is willing to trust her judgment on the truth of your connection. We have a room set up where she can observe and you will never even know she is there. It is what I could do for you. They refused any less.”

“You ask too much,” Abby said. Her voice firm.

“Mom,” Clarke interrupted before Abby could go further. She turned to the ambassador. “Please, may I speak to…” she glanced up at Bellamy, his face full of dark emotion. She knew he was holding back, she just wanted to talk to him. “My husband.” Her voice choked on the words. It was the first time she’d called him her husband. Bellamy clenched his jaw and she swallowed. “In private please. You-you say my life is no longer personal, but please, this is our—“ she didn’t know what plea she intended to make but it didn’t matter. The ambassador nodded without question and gestured for them to follow. He took them to a small cabin with just a small cot and table with two chairs. He closed the door behind them, leaving them alone.

They were left in silence. Clarke took a deep breath and turned to Bellamy. The room was dark and his eyes were in shadow. 

“Clarke, you can’t be seriously considering this.”

“What else can we do? We’ve already gotten married.” She saw him wince and something in her gut pulled tight. “We can’t waste it. We have to go all in, Bellamy.”

He looked at her like she was crazy. “They accused you of using your body for an alliance with Lexa. This is what we’re doing now, Clarke.”

Clarke bit her lip. “But…” And couldn’t go on. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and was now glad for the dimness of the room

He took her arms and turned her to face him. “But what?” he said after she went too long without speaking. 

“But it’s you…” she said, her words fading as she fought off tears. “I trust you.” Almost a whisper. 

He just held her there. The darkness was cool and she was grateful for it. She could hear his breathing, ragged. “You want me to…”

“I want us to. It doesn’t matter if someone watches. I trust you. I know this isn’t…” she didn’t know what it wasn’t. She didn’t know what it was.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice husky. “We’ll do this and we’ll figure out this mess.”

“Bellamy. We’re married.”

“It’s not…” his words failed him, too. “We’ll figure it out. We have time.”

“Not before we have to fuck.”

She felt his fingers tighten on her arm. “Don’t call it that.”

“You did.”

“But to them. Not to you. It’s not like that between us. I don’t want… oh fuck Clarke. What the fuck did we get ourselves into.”

She felt a tear sneak out of the corner of her eye and roll down her cheek. She ducked her head so he wouldn’t see in the dim room. Her loose hair fell around her face. 

“You think you can handle having sex with me, Bellamy?”

He pulled her into his chest before she could wipe the tears away. “I’ll take care of you, okay? Trust me.”

“I do.” 

They knocked on the door and told the ambassador that they agreed. He took them to a different cabin, although Abby grumbled and glared around her at all the grounders she sat with, including the green eyed Mila. 

When he closed the door behind them, Bellamy turned and locked it. He hadn’t spoken since she’d told the ambassador that they were willing. The walls were wood and the windows were hung with heavy curtains. A fire crackled in the fire place and there was a wide bed, covered with furs and pillows. There was a table with fruit and wine and bread and cheese. There were two chairs and each chair held a robe. Clarke went over to one and touched it. “Silky” she said.

Bellamy’s eyes scanned the room. “These aren’t all windows.”

Clarke tilted her head at him, questioning.

“The curtains. One of these is going to be a door, with a room behind it and…”

“Oh,” Clarke said. Odun. She would be sitting behind it. Watching them. Clarke made her decision and went right to the table and the bottle of wine on it. The glasses were stocky and thick, but clear glass. They felt smooth in her hand, and solid. She filled both with dark red wine and then walked over to him while he was still busy glaring around the room suspiciously. 

“Drink.”

His suspicious eyes turned to the glass, and then her. “Don’t you think that’s unwise considering the circumstances.” He raised his eyebrows. “Unsteady alliance.” He leaned towards her and whispered. “Enemy village.”

“Allies, Bellamy,” Clarke said. She held the drink up to him again. She smiled at him. “And our wedding.”

His eyes got sad then and she wanted to cry. “Shhh,” he said and stepped in closer to her. He took the glass. “No tears.” He held the glass up. “To our marriage,” he said louder. “To my wife.” Her heart constricted. 

“To my husband,” she said and they drank. But then he put his glass down on the table, and he took hers from her, still mostly full, and set it next to his. 

“We don’t need that, okay?”

“No?”

“No. I’ll prove it. They won’t doubt that this is real.”

Clarke cracked a nervous smile. “You going to put on a show?”

Bellamy shook his head no. His eyes traveled over her face then and he reached out a hand, brushing her hair back, he barely caressed her cheek before reaching up and plucking a flower. “You look so pretty,” he said and her lashes fluttered. He had never called her pretty. “Like a goddess.” He reached back with his other hand and tugged at her hair. The tie came loose. “Ahh,” he said, then he ran her fingers through the loose braid and it came apart. Sky blue flowers rained down upon her shoulders. “Beautiful.” 

Clarke stared up at him, hardly able to catch her breath. He’d switched so rapidly from suspicious and antagonistic to… this. His fingers combed through her tumbled hair, settling at the nape of her neck where he massaged the tight muscles. 

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

She felt a heat pool in her belly. She shook her head.

He quirked a tiny smile. “You sure you don’t want to stall a bit?”

His hand settled around the side of her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw. A shiver went down her spine. “Yes,” she said and stepped into him, stretching up to press her lips against his.

So soft.

“You sure?” he asked, and the puffs of his breath against her lips made her close her eyes with how much she wanted him.

“I want to.”

He drew his breath in, shakily, pulled back just slightly but he was so close, she wanted him closer, that she noticed.

“Do you not want to?” she asked.

He brought his other hand up to cradle her face in both of his. “Not like this. But we have to.”

“Bellamy…” she said and she felt like her heart was breaking. She tried to pull back but he held on to her.

“Clarke,” he begged, “kiss me, please.”

She gasped and surged into him, pressing herself against him, wrapping her arms around his neck so she could hold him close. His lips were tentative, more so than they had been in the council room. Clarke pulled back to look at him. His eyes still closed, a crease between his brows. She brushed his curly hair back from his forehead.

“Bellamy,”she whispered. “Forget about them. Forget about the watcher and the council and the alliance. It’s not about them, okay.” She kissed the wrinkle between his brows and it disappeared. “It’s me. It’s us. Do you trust me?”

He opened his eyes and they were so dark and so full of emotions she couldn’t identify. “I trust you, Clarke.”

Her eyes fluttered and then she looked up at him through her lashes. “You know, I can take care of you, too, Bellamy,” and then she reached out to him before she could reconsider, and laid one hand on his chest. He was so strong and firm. She loved touching him but she wanted more, and she wanted him to…she wanted him to want her. She slipped his first button from the hole and ran her fingers over the skin she bared. When she looked up at him, she saw a glint in his eye, so she unbuttoned the next. This time she pressed a kiss to the exposed skin. His lips parted as he watched her, so she unfastened the rest of the buttons, running her hands along his stomach and chest. She kissed him again, over his heart, open mouthed, tasting his skin. When she looked up at him, he was starting down at her, open lust on his face. “You’re beautiful, too,” she told him.

He groaned and tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling her into a kiss. His lips were so soft she clung to him or she might fall. “Okay,” he said as he pulled away to take a breath. “All in.” And then his mouth was back on her, more insistent, she opened to him and he deepened the kiss. Clarke pulled off his shirt, wanting to feel him, dropping it to the floor and he steered her towards the bed.

Clarke reached around her to take off her dress, un fastening the clip at her waist and working to unwrap it, awkwardly. She laughed against his neck. “It took ten women to put this thing on, I don’t know how to get it off.”

“Leave it on, Clarke.”

“What?” she asked confused. 

“I don’t want you to be a show for them.”

“I don’t care. Odun doesn’t care. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.”

“I care, Clarke,” he said, and his voice broke. “We have to, for the alliance, but some somethings are private. I don’t care about Wanheda. I care about you and I don’t need—“ He pulled her up tight against his body, hiking up the long skirt with one hand, he slipped his fingers between her legs. She gasped as his fingers began moving, sending her senses reeling. “I don’t want you exposed. It’s about us, not them. Okay?”

She nodded, unable to speak as much because the sensations of his hands on her was overwhelming as because it was Bellamy here with her, touching her, sucking softly at her pulse as he laid her down in the furs of the bed stroking her higher.

In the end, the dress unwound on its own, as Bellamy pumped into her and she reached and yearned for him with legs and arms and her whole body. After, they lay, panting and sweaty, tangled in yards of gauzy fabric. He pulled the the lengths from under her and around her as she laughed and shifted to let him take it. “That didn’t work,” he said, looking down on her naked in the bed for the first time, his eyes heated. She wanted to reach for him and pull him back down to her to kiss him again, but he fastened his pants and retrieved his shirt so that she could cover up. He blew out the lanterns so the room faded into dimness, just the fire in the fireplace left to light things. The darkness felt like privacy, although she knew they were still being watched.

“What now?” he asked, once she was covered again.

Clarke shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s our wedding night, I think they’ll let us have it.” He stood there without moving, just looking at her. She reached out her hand. “Come lay with me. I’m so tired. Maybe we can just… rest for a little?”

His chest expanded as he breathed in. “They’ll probably wake us when they need us,” he said and took her hand, as she slid over, making room for him next to her. 

She curled into him, with his arm around her and he pulled the furs up to cover them. She pressed her face into his chest, overwhelmed with how right it felt to be in his arms. She loved Bellamy Blake and it was terrifying, but here she was holding him, his wife. She knew they hadn’t figured everything out yet, but she believed they would, together. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair.

“For what?” she whispered back, mindful of the old woman who was probably still watching them.

“That we had to do this.” Clarke froze as he went on. “On The Ark, my mother… she had to do things, sleep with men so that we could survive. For favors. For information.” Clarke was afraid to look at him or speak or even move. “As I got older, I did things too.” 

“Bellamy…” she said, the word so close to a sob it might as well have been the same thing. 

“I never wanted that for you. I’m sorry.”

He was sorry. She tried to pull away from him. He was sorry. He held on to her and rubbed his hand over her arm. Because he was sorry. The tears started then and she cried into his skin while he whispered his apologies into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah. I'm kind of sorry. giving you guys some angst here. oops.   
> damn tropey prompts taking over and making me write long multi chap fics. you'll have to wait on the rest of the prompts, now I'm caught up in this one.


	3. Playing the Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it a real marriage if one of you thinks it's a sham?

Clarke rose to wakefulness as the sky was beginning to lighten through the curtains. Bellamy’s strong heart beat pressed against her ear and his warm arms wrapped around her, and she felt at peace. She didn't want to move, or lose his embrace. She just wanted to exist like this forever.

When the knock came at the door Bellamy leapt up, immediately on guard, as if he had never gone to sleep at all. She felt cold, despite the way he pulled the furs all the way up past her shoulders. “Stay here,” he hissed, and warily went to the door. He unlocked it and cracked it open. 

In the dimness of the pre dawn room, she saw his posture straighten. He listened and nodded and took their packs, resting them by the door, and accepted an armful of folded clothes, then closed and relocked the door. He didn’t even look at her, just went to all the curtains in the room, whipping them aside to check behind them. The third one revealed a small alcove with nothing but a bench, a basket of bread, fruit, cheese and a bottle of still hot tea. 

“She’s gone, but she left us more food,” he said as he came out of the alcove with the basket. “We didn’t even eat the food they left last night. They have so much food they can just give it away.”

“That’s why we need the alliance, isn’t it?” Clarke said, still sleepy from the bed. She wore his shirt and it smelled like him. And the memory of his warmth against her body was a physical thing she couldn’t shake. She closed her eyes and stretched, raking her fingers through her tangled hair, to free herself from the sensation of his body next to her all night long. When she opened them, Bellamy was staring at her.

He swallowed and held out the pile in his other hand. “They cleaned our clothes last night. And brought them back. At the door. The convoy is preparing to head back to Arkadia with all the supplies we bargained for.”

He didn’t say it, but Clarke heard it in her head. ‘The supplies we fucked to get.’ Clarke sighed and threw the fur covers back, planting her feet on the floor and holding onto the bed. “Bellamy, now that we’re alone, we should talk about this.”

He pressed his lips together into a tight line, the muscle in his jaw leaping. “You’re right. We’ll be surrounded by grounders on the trip back, and they’ll be in our village from now on. Always there. Always watching us. We’ll have to keep up the married act, at least until they forget about us. How hard do you think they’ll need to be convinced? How long until we can stop pretending?”

“Bellamy…” she said as she stood up and stepped towards him. 

He smiled wryly. “It shouldn’t be too hard, Jasper and Raven already call us married. Although I think that’s just because we bicker so much.”

Clarke stared at him. Glared, she glared at him. He was going to joke about this, about their marriage. Like it was nothing. He gave a half laugh and shoved some clothes at her. “Here, get dressed. And we should eat something before we have to go out and face the grounders.” He put the food basket on the table that was still laden with food from last night, and then he gestured towards the curtained alcove. “I’ll change in here,” he said and disappeared to get dressed.

Clarke was furious, actually. He wanted to pretend that nothing had happened. That they weren’t actually married. That they hadn’t had sex. No that they hadn’t made love. That was what had happened in that bed last night and it didn’t matter how he tried to rush past it or keep her from getting naked or make it into a business transaction. She had felt it. Bastard. She pulled off his soft, black linen shirt and threw it on the bed. Bastard. She stood there completely naked for a minute, hoping he was looking through the curtain like Odun had. Bastard. But he probably wasn’t. He’d spent the whole night trying to avoid looking at her body, or even touching her more than necessary. God, it made her heart hurt.

She gave up and pulled on her underwear and pants. Everything smelled clean and fresh and she hoped that whatever soap they’d used on them would be in the supplies, because it was amazing and she was getting ready to pull her fresh smelling shirt over her head when she felt a sudden desire to keep a part of last night with her, and grabbed Bellamy’s shirt off the bed and put that back on. The woven fabric was so soft and thin, she was sure it would never survive the wear and tear of daily life, but today, she was going to sit in a convoy and prove to their new grounder allies that Clarke was serious about their alliance and that she loved Bellamy Blake. 

She laughed to herself. The shirt smelled like him, and she remembered the taste of his skin, the heat of his tongue, his rough hands traveling down her sides. She thought maybe it wouldn’t be hard to convince anyone she loved Bellamy. She thought maybe it would be harder to hide it from Bellamy himself, since he seemed to believe this whole thing was one step away from prostitution. She shook herself all over and shoved her t-shirt back into her pack. Bellamy still wasn’t out of the alcove. She didn’t know what was taking him so long, so she dug into the basket of food. The tea was black and hot and warmed her pleasantly, and the bread was filling and delicious with some of the cheese spread on it. The basket had been tied with pretty ribbons in orange and blue that reminded her of the scarves they had exchanged in their ceremony. While she ate, and waited for Bellamy, she wistfully twined a couple of the ribbons together, rubbing them between her fingers.

When he finally came out, he smiled at her, nodding firmly and went for some breakfast. “Okay, so they said that your mom set up the convoy. She’s taking the rover and riding back with all the healer apprentices. Apparently she wants to start their training immediately, since they will eventually be returning to the grounders, rather than living with us permanently.” Bellamy rolled his eyes at that. She knew he didn’t like the idea of the grounders being around all the time. “So that means you and I are taking the slow ride, and going in the wagons, with the Hainofa and Hainofi and the others who will be staying with us.”

“I’m a medical apprentice, too,” Clarke grumbled. Feeling very ill at ease, not knowing how to handle her intense desire to put her arms around Bellamy while he was making everything all business. Again. 

“Not today you’re not. Today you’re Wanheda and you’re married to Klir Skai.”

She blinked at him. “So that’s how you want to deal with it? It’s Wanheda married to Klir Skai. Not Clarke married to Bellamy.”

He looked at her levelly, his brows drawn down in concentration. “That’s honest, isn’t it?”

She returned his steady look and then turned away, back to her breakfast. “Try some of that cheese on your bread,” she said. “It’s delicious.” He ate his cheese and bread and agreed, but she had lost her appetite. She downed the last of her tea. The orange and blue ribbons were wrapped around her fingers, like she couldn’t let go of them.

Bastard, she said again in her head. This conversation wasn’t done. Nothing had been dealt with, but she would wait until they had more time. She twisted the woven ribbons around her wrist three times and then tied them on there. They reminded her that whatever this was, she was not giving up. 

***

They were bringing back three wagons filled with necessary supplies for planting and farming and as well as food stores to help them get through until they were fully self sufficient. Of the twenty grounders who were coming to live with them, eight of them were in the rover with Abby driving. The remaining twelve were distributed between the three freight wagons. 

“I’m so happy for you two,” Abby said loudly when she saw them. “I know you wanted to wait to say your vows before your own people, but this proves to our allies that we are serious. I will get back to Arkadia with the healers before you, so we’ll prepare our people and have our own celebration.”

Clarke couldn’t help grabbing Bellamy’s hand for support at that. She couldn’t believe she had forgotten. They were going to be married to their own people too. Raven, Octavia, Jasper, Monty, Miller, Kane, everyone. She had known it. But it was so easy to forget in the middle of this foreign village. Bellamy’s fingers clenched on hers and she looked at him. He blinked at her. Like it was ridiculous. She wanted to punch him all of a sudden and pulled out of his hand. 

But the grounders were all watching them, so instead of just turning on Bellamy, her HUSBAND, who she was supposed to be in LOVE with, and hitting him for being a stupid JACKASS, she went to her mother and hugged her. Too hard, probably. She was kind of mad at her mother too. She was kind of mad at everyone. The ambassador for telling her she had to wed, her mother for suggesting Bellamy, Bellamy for agreeing even though he basically thought of her as a whore, and herself, dammit, for actually wanting to be married to him because she was so damn, stupidly in love with him. 

“What the hell are you playing at mom,” Clarke hissed into her ear as she hugged her and was hugged in return.

“Not everyone is satisfied with the ambassador’s solution.They don’t trust you to not dump Bellamy and marry Roan whenever you feel like it, if it’s good for your people.” Clarke felt Abby patting her hair, as if it were just some loving mother daughter wedding hug. “You’re riding back to Arkadia with the Hainofa and Hainofi. I think it’s a trap. Be careful. They have to believe this marriage is real.”

Her heart clenched. “Mom,” Clarke couldn’t help whispering. “It is real… for me.”

Clarke felt Abby stiffen in her arms, and then she hummed and nodded. “Give him time. Maybe he’s one of the people you have to convince.”

But then they had been hugging too long and all the grounders were staring. Clarke broke away from the embrace and dashed away a tear. She was sure no one caught that. Then Bellamy quirked his eyebrow at her. So he’d caught it. She smiled brightly at him. 

“Son,” Abby, and Clarke rather enjoyed his startled look as her mother engulfed him in a hug that was, if anything, even bigger than the one she gave Clarke. Clarke eyed her suspiciously. It struck her that technically, Bellamy was her son now. Her mother was his. The thought made her a little breathless, and she didn’t have enough time to recover from yet another realization of what this marriage meant when Abby let him go and ushered all of her apprentices into the rover. 

He looked a little bit dazed as he caught her eye and she found herself going to him before she remembered that she was pissed off at him, so instead of wrapping her arm around his waist like she really wanted to, she grabbed onto his elbow and dug her nails into the soft skin at the bend of his arm. 

He looked down at her with an eyebrow raised. “Impatient to get going, honey?”

And there was that urge to hit him again. She nodded tightly. “We’re riding with the hainofa and hainofi,” she said.

“We’re riding,” Bellamy growled, “with the suitors they wanted you to marry.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows at him. “Yup. Isn’t that interesting?”

Bellamy scowled. “No. It’s not interesting at all.”

“Hmm,” she said and leaned in to whisper into his ear, “we’re not done performing.” She felt him shiver and she kissed his ear for good measure, repressing the urge to bite his ear lobe. But she did release her tight hold on his arm, and take her nails out of his skin. 

He turned to look at her then. His hand coming up to hold her other arm. She remembered his arms wrapped around her. His hands on her bare skin, stroking her. His eyes met hers, deep and liquid. “Are you up for it?” he said, his voice soft, almost a breath.

She took a step closer to him, pushing him, testing him. “Are you questioning my commitment to you, husband?”

He gasped then and she thought he might lean forward to kiss her.

“It is a long journey,” A man spoke out. “We must begin now, or we will not make it to your village before dark.”

Bellamy cleared his throat and Clarke stepped back. They looked at the wagon. A man stood there. He was tall, taller than Bellamy, with long black hair streaming down his back, and startling silver green eyes, bright in his smooth tan skin. He crossed his arms impatiently and the muscles of his arms and chest bulged. He was an impressive specimen. And he looked like he knew it.

“Clarke,” Bellamy said as her hand dropped from his arm, “this is Miko. He’s the hainofa.” 

Behind him, in the back of the wagon that was filled with supplies and wrapped with a tarp, leaving only four seats behind the driver, was Mila. “Please, Wanheda, if we do not leave now, we will have to stop for the night and we are expecting the weather to worsen by tomorrow. We must go.”

Mila sat in their wagon. Mila, with the same astonishing eyes as Miko. “You didn’t tell me you were the hainofi last night,” Clarke said. “You went from almost marrying me to walking me down the aisle.”

Mila cocked her head. “With your mother tending Klir Skai, my escort was the highest status. It was intended as an honor.”

Clarke nodded and turned back to Bellamy, intending to whisper about whatever game she thought they were playing with them. Instead he leaned down, brushed her hair aside with gentle fingers and murmured into her ear, “They’re pretty hot. I bet you’re regretting your choice, now. You could have had one of them.”

Pain flashed through her and she pulled away, glaring at him. Then she remembered why she was so angry at him. Because he thought she was using her body to cement an alliance. He defended her love of Lexa to the ambassador, but thought that the way she felt about him was nothing but politics. She wanted to punch him. Instead, she fisted her hand in his shirt and pulled him closer. 

She kissed him hard. He gasped and she thrust her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, aggressively. She meant it to be angry, but his hands clutched at her hips and pulled her closer and electricity shot through her, leaving her panting and wanting more as she pulled away from him. She caught a glance of his stunned face as she bent to pick up her pack and head towards the wagon. “Let’s go, husband,” she said.

Miko offered her a strong hand to help her into the wagon and she was grateful for it, because her head was still spinning from that kiss even as she settled into the wooden seat. Bellamy followed not too long after, although she couldn’t even look at him. She knew he was trying to sit as far away from her on the bench as he could, but that wasn’t possible. The wagon was packed too tight. Mila spoke to the driver in trigedasleng, and the convoy started out. 

They rode through the village, with the whole population, seemingly, out cheering them on, but then they were on the road. Clarke and Bellamy sat on one bench, and Mila and Miko sat opposite them, facing each other. After avoiding their gazes awkwardly, and sitting awkwardly next to Bellamy who was trying not to touch her, Clarke got fed up. 

“So, Mila. You said you were coming with us as a hunter, not as hainofi. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mila smiled at Clarke, her eyes half lidded. “It did not seem appropriate to declare myself your suitor as I dressed you to marry another person. I am the best hunter. It is the truth. It seemed a better claim at the time.”

Clarke nodded, satisfied. It made logical sense. Although she did not trust it to be the whole truth. She’d let it lie for now. “What about you, Miko? Bellamy seemed to know you were the hainofa. You told him?”

Miko grinned, one side of his mouth curving up. “Wanheda, I was meant to be your suitor, not the suitor of Klir Skai.” Miko looked at Bellamy then, his eyes raking up Bellamy’s body to settle with those seductive eyes on his face. As if he wouldn’t have minded being Bellamy’s suitor either. Bellamy quirked an eyebrow at him. 

Bastard. 

“Call me Clarke, please,” Clarke said, her voice dripping honey. She placed her hand on Bellamy’s thigh. “And call my husband Bellamy. We’re going to be one people, we should not be so formal.” She’d drawn Miko’s eyes back to her. 

“Clarke,” he said, his gaze fell to her breasts before he looked at her eyes again. This time he smiled with bright white teeth, the tip of his tongue poking out just a bit. “You’re right. We should not be so formal. And we should take this time to get to know each other, as people of high status… and common interests.” The smile went a little feral. 

“Common interests?” Bellamy asked. His voice was a little husky, too. Clarke dug her fingers into his thigh. He could NOT be getting turned on by Miko’s totally inappropriate flirting. She would not allow it. It wasn’t until Bellamy pried her fingers out of his tensed thigh muscles and held onto them, that she realized how high on his leg she had let her hand go. He shifted uncomfortably and crossed his legs. 

“Mmhmm,” Miko said, glancing down at Bellamy’s lap. “Common interests. Peace and prosperity for our people.” 

“Peace and Prosperity for our people,” Mila said. Her smile was wide. She looked alarmingly like her brother sitting next to each other like that. And Bellamy was right. They were hot. They were both attractive and they had their charisma turned on, with those silver green eyes and white smiles. They both wore their hair down in shining black waves, thick and lustrous. “We should celebrate our alliance,” Mila said. “It is important for the union of our people. For them to see the leaders joining,” she said, “in friendship.” Mila leaned forward and put a hand on Clarke’s knee. Showing quite a bit of full cleavage as she did so. Clarke smiled but leaned into Bellamy.

Miko pulled out a flask. He held it up in a toast, “To our alliance,” he said, and took a long pull from the flask before handing it to Bellamy with a direct look and a smile. Bellamy nodded, the challenge on his face, “the alliance” he repeated and kept Miko’s gaze as he drank. They both grinned when he was done until he finally turned to Clarke and handed her the flask. She took it, none too gently and muttered, “to the alliance” before swallowing the honey flavored heat of the whiskey, and handing it on to Mila. Mila’s long fingers brushed against hers. “Our alliance,” Mila said, watching Clarke’s mouth as she drank. 

Clarke wrapped her arm around Bellamy’s waist then. She’d figured out who didn’t believe Clarke and Bellamy’s attachment was real. It was these two. And as far as she could tell, they were trying to seduce them and break their marriage. Miko’s knees leaned into Bellamy’s knees. And Bellamy did not pull back. Bellamy SMILED at Miko. 

Bastard.

Fine. If that was the game they wanted to play, she would play it. She slipped her hand under the hem of Bellamy’s shirt and ran her nails up his back. She watched his eyelids flutter and he turned from Miko to her. 

They couldn’t speak, not with these two watching their every move, ready to pounce. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her, suspiciously. It almost made her want to laugh. Sitting in this wagon with these two and their predatory smiles trying to seduce them and break the alliance, or more probably, ally their people more tightly with the sky folk by screwing her, or him or both of them, and he was suspicious of HER. 

She pressed against his arm, the soft shirt really no barrier to body heat. “And to us, Bellamy. To our marriage.” She kissed the skin under his ear and the muscles in his jaw that were always so tight went slack. She slid her free hand up his chest to his cheek. His breath stuttered. She turned his face to hers. “I love you,” she said, and when his lips fell open in a gasp, she kissed him, licking the honey whiskey from his tongue. She was dizzy with it. With him. Needing to get closer. Wanting to feel his skin against hers again. 

He bit her lip sharply and she drew back. Startled to realize she was practically in his lap. She settled back on the bench, bashfully sneaking a peek at the grounders. Mila stared with narrowed eyes, but Miko smiled still, as if he’d enjoyed the show. “Sorry,” Clarke said. “Newlyweds,” and smiled. Bellamy pinched her waist, which made her realize that when she pulled back, he hadn’t let go of her, and his fingers flirted at the waistband of her pants, underneath her shirt. She leaned into him.

“To the newlyweds,” Mila said lifting up the flask. When she was done with her toast, this time, she handed the flask back to Miko, who, still smiling, raised the flask. “To the newlyweds,” he said and then looked at Clarke heatedly as he handed her the flask. Bellamy pulled her in to him tighter when he saw that. It made her grin and turn to him.

“To us, Bellamy.”

He tensed his jaw but took the flask from her. “To us.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he said it, but she felt his fingers flex on her waist.

Surprisingly, once they got their performance out of the way, the ride settled into amiable companionship. Clarke thought that it was easier after they all declared their intentions in regards to the alliance and their marriage. As long as the rules were clear, she could work with it. Even though she wasn’t about to let them win. She found a way to always be in physical contact with Bellamy, the whole ride, even while they were both engaged in separate conversations about Arkadia or grounder politics or the supply convoy or whatever. 

They stopped once at mid day, to stretch their legs and have a meal. Clarke was in the woods getting a moment of privacy and heading back to the convoy when Bellamy found her.

He grabbed her arm to stop her and whirled her around. “What are you playing, Clarke?”

“What?” Clarke said, startled.

He backed her up until she was up against a tree. “All that in the wagon. This was not our plan. Wanheda and Klir Skai, remember?”

Clarke rolled her eyes at him. “I never agreed to that. And in case you didn’t notice, the hainofa and hainofi do not respect our marriage, therefore they do not respect us and they do not respect the alliance. We have to give them proof that it’s real, that they can’t just flirt with us and have us switch over to whoever is most advantageous.”

Bellamy snorted. “Of course, I should have known it was all political with you.”

“As if you weren’t playing the game, Bellamy? Do you think I didn’t notice how you were flirting with Miko, touching him and smiling at him?”

“Maybe I liked him,” he smirked. “He’s very hot, you know.”

That was it. She couldn’t restrain herself anymore. She balled up her fist and punched him in the chest. He caught her hand and held it there. She clutched his shirt and he stepped forward. She took a step back and felt the rough bark snag on her fine linen shirt. 

“Besides, I don’t think he wants to break up our marriage Clarke, I think he wants to be invited into it. It seems smart to leave that option open, if it would make our position stronger with the grounders.”

Clarke gaped at him. Letting what he said sink in. He smirked at leaving her speechless. 

“If the grounders had wanted you to marry to seal the alliance, you would have done it,” Clarke said, feeling cold. 

Bellamy pulled back, the smirk fell from his face. “What?”

“You married me to save me from selling myself in marriage to a stranger for the alliance. But you would have just married one of them if they had asked it of you. You’ll invite Miko into our marriage.” She dropped her hands from his chest. “Same difference. For the alliance. Is this what you meant by ‘all in?’ Anything for the alliance. You just threw your body into the agreement, along with your promise? Fucking me was just politics.”

He pushed her back, pressing her up against the tree. “I told you, don’t use that word for us. It doesn’t fit.” 

“You sure, Bellamy? What if I said I wanted you to fuck me?” 

Bellamy inhaled deeply, his chest pressing into her breasts as he looked down on her, his lids heavy and sensual. Clarke reached up and twined her arms around his neck, leaning her hips into his, trying to get closer. “Fuck me,” she said hoarsely.

“Don’t,” he breathed into her ear, his voice shaky. “Don’t. And don’t tell me you love me as part of this performance. Don’t, Clarke.” Clarke stopped breathing. “We’ll do what we have to for this alliance, but I can’t take it if you play with me like this.”

Clarke swallowed against her suddenly dry mouth. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t playing, but the words wouldn’t come. She was frozen, pressed up against his full body, feeling his heat and his strength and not knowing how she could go forward. Minutes ticked by.

“Klir Skai,” They heard Mila’s voice calling. “Wanheda!” she appeared through the trees. Bellamy unwound Clarke’s arms from around his neck, he stepped back from her, still holding onto her hand, so she came forward with him, feeling numb. “I apologize. Bellamy and Clarke. I must get accustomed to your informality. The convoy is ready to continue the journey. We must go if we want to make it by nightfall.”

“We’ll be there,” Bellamy said, and his voice was strong and steady and she still couldn’t speak. Mila slipped back through the trees and Bellamy turned to Clarke. “You’re right. They don’t respect our marriage. They want proof. I can do that. And I’ll stop flirting. Trust me, okay.”

And she did. She trusted him more than anyone else in the universe. He had always been there for her. He would do what he thought was right. He would stand by her. 

He just wouldn’t love her.

She nodded, still unable to speak and they went back to the convoy and climbed in to the wagon. Mila and Miko had switched places on their bench, Miko sitting across from her now, and Mila across from Bellamy. This time, Bellamy made sure to keep his arm around her, to brush her hair back or touch her shoulder to point out something he wanted her to notice. The flirtation receded, but the conversation moved on from politics and villages to getting to know each other personally. Mila and Bellamy got embroiled in discussions of hunting and for all that Clarke was interested, she was far more interested in Miko’s conversation. It turned out he was a singer and storyteller and teacher, and was charged with conveying the history and laws of their people. He was the one who had crafted the song-tale of their marriage and alliance that the messengers carried to all the other villages. He sang a story about the first survivors for her in the wagon, and Bellamy pulled her into his side, as his conversation faded in order to listen to the song. Miko transitioned into another song after that and Clarke found herself getting tired.

Bellamy kissed her temple and whispered, “rest,” to her, and she was too tired and sad to keep being mad at him. Besides it was the act they were putting on, the act of loving each other, so she let her head fall to his shoulder and fell asleep against him.


	4. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bed.
> 
> Sharing.
> 
> Bitches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry. lol. i have attitude.

Bellamy kissed Clarke on the forehead, his hard body shifting under her torso. The arm wrapped around her squeezed lightly, rubbed up and down her arm, sliding over her light shirt. “Come on, Clarke. Baby it’s time to wake up,” he murmured into her ear. It all melted into her until her bones were tingling with him. She nuzzled her face into his chest. That was when she noticed the way the wagon was jostling, the cooling air with a nip to the breeze. She blinked awake to see a sky the dusky shade of blue before twilight, and two pairs of silver green eyes watching her.

She startled and sat up, jerking away from Bellamy.

Bellamy sat up from where he’d been reclining on wrapped bundles. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said. She looked from Mila to Miko to him. Swallowed as it all came back to her.

“We’re almost to Arkadia,” he said.

“Why did you let me sleep so long?” Clarke rubbed her face, raked her hair back with her fingers. Her skin was sweaty where she’d been pressed up against him. “Why did you let me use you as a pillow? You must be so achy.”

He smirked at her. “You’re my wife. You can use me any way you want.”

His words forced the breath out of her. They’d been so angry at each other before. Now he held her as she slept on him for hours and played double entendre word games with her? Called her his wife? 

The grounders were watching them intently. So the act was still on. Clarke wondered what had happened while she’d been napping. She vaguely recalled the drift of singing through her dreams. It was nice. And the constant feeling of being held close. Of being cared for. Where did his anger go?

She leaned back in to him, brushing his bangs back from his forehead. She didn’t realize how long she’d wanted to do that. She let her fingers run through his hair. His eyes closed and he bit back on a sigh. “Are you a little drunk?” she asked, casting a side glance at Miko, wondering if they’d emptied that flask while she slept.

He snorted with amusement. “No. Just a little tired. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been more than just a long day. Did you get to nap, too?”

He smiled and looked off over the ridge. “I don’t do that.”

She pulled back from him. “You were already awake when I woke up this morning.”

“Hmm,” he acknowledged.

“Bellamy, when’s the last time you got a decent night’s sleep?”

He scoffed. “I don’t worry about that, Clarke. I’m used to taking night watches.”

“When’s the last time?” she pressed.

He rolled his eyes. “When we left Arkadia, I guess.”

“That was two days ago, Bellamy. You can’t—“

“Look,” he interrupted, pointing ahead on the road as the rings of Arkadia began to show over the ridge. “We’re home. I’m okay. We got our alliance. We did it.”

We got married, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Those silver green eyes were still watching them. She just slipped her hand into his and squeezed. He squeezed back. They had done it. Everything would be different now, but they did it. 

The four of them watched as Arkadia came into view. Clarke tried to see it from the grounder’s perspective, the technological marvel of the space station that had kept them safe for a hundred years in the sky, now a sign of their presence on Earth. The cabins and outbuildings stretching out now from the Ark station, the walls expanding as they’d done in the past year. The fields with irrigation. The solar panels and wind turbines. 

“They’ve lit all the bonfires,” Bellamy noticed, his brow quirked in puzzlement. “It’s not even dark yet. Or cold.”

Clarke pulled his hand into her lap. “They’re having a celebration, Bellamy.”

The wind changed and the strains of hundred year old music filtered through the hills to them. They had the sound system up and running. 

“What are they celebrating?”

“The alliance,” Mila suggested.

“Our marriage,” Clarke said.

Bellamy rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. 

Clarke laughed at him. “This is why sleep is important, Bellamy.”

“Why,” he grumbled. “So that I can put up with our friends throwing a party for our f—“ he paused for just a second and Clarke had the feeling he’d been about to say ‘fake marriage.” 

“Wedding,” he finished firmly. 

She pressed her lips together at his almost slip up. “No. So you can stay sharp and connect the dots that tell you what’s going on.”

He glared at her. The lights at the front gate came on. Clarke could hear the shouts and the wheels to the gate started whirring as the doors opened. They’d definitely been waiting for them. A cheer rose up from inside of Arkadia.

“I’m definitely not ready for this,” Bellamy said with a groan.

“Oh I’m sending you straight to bed, you don’t have to deal with it.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” 

Clarke felt a giggle rise up. She felt so much better since napping against his chest for hours. “I’m your wife, now. I do get to tell you what to do.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek and felt his jaw tense.

“Clarke,” he warned, under his breath.

“You took care of me, Bellamy, let me take care of you. Please?”

“Only because you asked nicely.”

“Is that all I have to do?” she asked, kissing his cheek again. He huffed a laugh that lifted her hair against her neck. “Do you trust me?”

He gasped and brought his hand to her waist, turning his head into hers until his lips grazed hers.

She flashed on memories of kissing his chest. Tasting his skin, and him pulling her up to kiss him. 

But they were being watched.

“You know I do,” he gasped against her lips, letting his fingers trail up her side under her shirt, scratching shivers into her skin. Apparently all she had to do to get him to want her was keep him up for two days so he couldn’t resist her. At least that meant he did want her, even if he didn’t like it.

She removed his hand from her waist and held onto it. “I’m putting you to bed, okay? I will take care of the supplies and our new citizens, and you will be off duty.”

“Fine,” he said. And then the wagon convoy was at the gate and they were met by a crowd of Arkadians, happy, actually happy to see them. 

Bellamy kept a hold of Clarke’s hand the whole time. It seemed the entire village descended upon them. Congratulating them, shoving small gifts into their hands, bouquets of flowers, books, sweaters, jars of various liquor. She tried to get away, tried to get Bellamy somewhere quiet, but no one would let them be.

“Mom, mom,” Clarke said to her when she could grab her as a trio of teens from the scavenging team cornered Bellamy up against the cantina wall, giggling and hugging him and gushing about how ‘they knew it! They knew it all along and wasn’t it so romantic…’

“I’ve got to get Bellamy out of here. He hasn’t slept a wink since we left Arkadia, and this is just too much for him. He’s going to lose it and probably blow the secret, too.”

Abby nodded. “Yeah, he does that a lot, refusing to take breaks or sleep when he thinks he has to be on duty.”

“Well he doesn’t have to be on duty and I told him I was putting him to bed and I’d deal with the grounders and the supplies and all. I just need some help getting him away from all these well wishers.”

“You told him you were putting him to bed and he agreed?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Abby laughed. “I’ve been trying to force Bellamy to go off duty and get more sleep for months and months. He refuses to listen to his doctor about a matter of health. I even got Kane enlisted, but Bellamy will ignore the roster and go stand watch all night anyway. Even if someone else is doing it.”

“That’s dumb. I just asked him nicely.”

Abby’s eyes twinkled at her. “Oh is that all you did?”

“What? Yes. Are you going to help me or not?”

Abby laughed. “Oh honey. Just a minute.” Abby saw someone through the throng milling about drinking too much. “Raven!” she called. 

Raven appeared in the crowd, spinning around on her newly invented brace which incorporated nanites that read neural impulses, increasing mobility. She’d been dancing and her skin glowed with the exertion. Clarke was so happy to see her friend happy. 

“It’s the newlywed!” she crowed, an evil light coming to her eye as she bore down on Clarke. 

Clarke was suddenly suspicious about her friend being this happy. She came up and hugged Clarke, nearly lifting her up off of her feet. She was really enjoying her new mobility. 

“Tell me about the wedding night, I’m dying to know…” Raven grabbed her by the arm.

“Uh…” Clarke was actually frightened.

“Raven,” Abby scolded. “We need your help. Focus please. Have you had too much to drink?”

Raven snorted. “It’s nothing, my tolerance is great. Whatcha got? Engineering problem? Radio acting up again? The AI program giving you trouble?”

Clarke stepped up. “Can you just help me get Bellamy out of here? I need to get him to bed and we can’t get away from the crowd. They all want to celebrate with us. He’s not up to it.”

“Ohhh” she sang. “I get it. You know, they’re all in on it. They’re trying to keep you from being alone together. They think it’s funny. After all this time of you guys pretending not to be together, they’ve decided you don’t get to get it on, now that you’re actually married.” She laughed. “But yeah, I’ll help you out.” She spotted Bellamy surrounded by the girls. There were half a dozen by now and they all seemed to be talking animatedly with their hands waving. Bellamy followed them, his eyes glazing over slightly. “You head to the kitchens, I’ll snag him and meet you there and lead you the back way to your rooms.”

“Why do you need to lead us to our rooms. We know where we live.”

“Oh yeah. You don’t live there anymore. You’re married now, did you forget? You guys don’t live in your dingy tin can Ark bachelor pads anymore. You’ve got one of the new cabins on the other side of the espalier orchard.”

“What?” Clarke looked at her astonished. “Those are supposed to be for families.”

“Married, Clarke. You’re a family now.” Raven shot a look over at Abby. “I swear Abby, your daughter misses the forest for the trees sometimes.”

Abby stuttered a bit. Clarke decided to help her out.

“No, I get it. It’s where married people live. And married people eventually have kids. Population growth. Sure. It’s just kind of a lot. And kind of fast. I’m still adjusting. I got it. I’ll meet you in the kitchens.” She shot her mom a look and Abby mouthed “sorry.” Clarke focused on her breathing. It all made a lot of sense and she was actually still adjusting, just like she said. Nothing fake there. She slipped through the shadows and let herself into the back of the cantina where the kitchen’s were. The door was actually unlocked and Clarke wondered if Raven had already had some sort of plan set up.

It didn’t take long before Raven showed, leading Bellamy, a little dazed, into the kitchen. He found himself the corner the opposite of Raven, as far from her as he could get in the narrow galley, and Clarke wondered what she’d said to him. She looked far too pleased with herself. This happy Raven was just a little bit frightening. 

“No escaping from me yet, shooter,” she said. “This way,” and unhooked a keyring from her belt. The lock beeped and Raven grinned. “One of the perks of being the head of mech. I’m Queen of All Tech. If I fix it, I need access.”

“Who gave you that power? You’re too dangerous to have it.” Bellamy growled.

“You did, dumbass, come on.” She led them through the dry storage. Filled with roots and grains and canisters of preserved food. They were quickly out the back way, the other side of the hangar, and away from the central bonfires. They could still hear the party going on from back here, but it was muted, less exhausting and not up in their faces. Clarke sighed and found herself reaching for Bellamy’s hand as Raven led them between the major buildings to the expanded area past the new trained farm plots.

The cabin was new and the wood was bright and raw. It still smelled like sawdust, but when Raven let them in, it was homey. The walls were whitewashed and and there were curtains on the windows. The floor was shiny wood and laid with an old patterned rug. A fire place was set with wood. The lights glowed comfortably. There were welcome baskets on the table.

“This is ours?” Bellamy asked, still holding her hand. Raven turned around to look at them. Caught them holding hands and smiled. Clarke resisted dropping his hand at the feeling of getting caught doing something she shouldn’t. She held on tighter. 

“Yep. Sorry about the lack of furniture. It was kind of last minute. We got this together for you as fast as we could. We can help you bring your stuff over from your old quarters tomorrow. We thought you’d maybe be creeped out by people going through your stuff. Well I thought that. Jasper and Miller didn’t see a problem. You’ll have to talk to them about that later. We’re just lucky that this cabin was move in ready and the next family on the list was willing to wait. Since, you know… it’s you guys.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Clarke said.

“Well, they also didn’t get married to get us supplies and tools to survive, so oh well.” Raven snapped at her, just a little. “Sorry. Some people did complain. Not the couple who gave up the cabin, but the ones behind them on the list. Anyway. The bedroom has a bed and that’s all you need, am I right?” Raven grinned at them and winked.

“Raven…”Clarke said, feeling guilty for the lies.

Raven shook her head and held up her hand. “No I get it. I get it. You didn’t want to tell us that you were together because you were worried about how everyone would react. It’s no problem. Abby explained. I mean, I kind of felt like we’d been through enough together that you’d know that I’d understand and be able to keep a secret, but whatever.”

Bellamy dropped her hand and stepped up to Raven. “We’re sorry Raven, we didn’t mean to…”

She looked up at him and gave him an eye. “All that drama, Bellamy. I always knew…but whatever. Like I said. I’m glad for you both. I’m happy for you. This is a great thing and I hope you aren’t stupid about the whole alliance thing.” Raven stopped and let her eyes travel from Bellamy to Clarke. “You’re both going to be stupid, aren’t you?”

Clarke looked at him. He looked as guilty as she felt. 

“Cool. That sounds like fun. Or not really. I think I’ll go out there and have some actual fun while the two of you stay in here and be weird about being married and alliances and getting houses and stuff. That prince guy is pretty hot. Maybe I’ll check out his situation.”

“He’s definitely on the market,” Bellamy said, as Raven ducked out the door.

Clarke started laughing as soon as the door closed behind Raven. “On the market?” she repeated.

“What? He didn’t seem like he was available to you?”

Clarke smacked him on the chest and doubled over laughing, her forehead leaning on his shoulder. It was just so ridiculous. He was open to whatever was on offer. Bellamy held onto her to keep her from falling over, and she found herself pulled up against his chest and looking up into his smiling face. 

“Oh,” she said. She reached up to touch his cheek. “I like to see you laughing. I want to see it more.”

His laughter stilled as he looked down on her. He licked his lips and she didn’t think anything was funny anymore. They were alone, home, away from prying eyes. She curled her hand behind his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. 

It was real. A real kiss. The world stopped and it was just them. Because this was what it should be. Not for anyone else or for the alliance, for show. There was no act here, it was just the two of them and she felt it from the top of her head to the tips of her toes as he leaned down into her and kissed her back, he pressed her against the door. Their door. 

She clutched at his shoulders, so strong, running her hands down his back and up under his shirt while his tongue flirted with hers and his hips ground into her hips. She could feel how much he wanted her. She reached for the button of his pants and snapped it.

He pulled back from the kiss and braced his hands on either side of her head on the door. “Clarke…” he said.

Her stomach fell. Her hands dropped to her side. She couldn’t look up at him.

“This is a bad idea.”

“Why? I want you. You want me, don’t you?”

“Of course I want you. But sex will complicate things.”

“We’re married, Bellamy—“she said and as soon as the words popped out she knew that was the wrong thing to say.

“It’s fake. Sex just confuses the issue. We’ll figure out how to manage this all and it won’t be so weird, but sex… it’s going to muddy the boundaries.”

Because it was fake. “How about fucking, is that on the table?”

“Stop it.”

Clarke turned and walked away from him. The room was not that large but it looked bigger than it was when it was empty like this, with just the rug and the table. More baskets full of food. It seemed that everyone, ground or sky, loved to give people baskets full of cheese when people got married. What was that about?

But she found what she was looking for. A jar of Monty’s moonshine. She knew she could depend upon her delinquents. She cracked the seal and took a big swig. 

“Yeah, so. We’ve got this whole fake marriage thing and we’ll have to figure that out, huh? Acting like it’s real in front of our friends, and nothing but business in the comfort of our own home.”

He started walking towards her. “Clarke,” he said and his voice was so soft and fucking sympathetic. 

“Great house, right? You know it’s bigger than the apartments we had on The Ark and my mom was a council member. The earth is nice, right? When it’s not trying to kill us.”

“Don’t be like that, Clarke, come on.”

“Like what, Bellamy? Friendly? Maybe you’re the one who’s having trouble managing your levels of fake intimacy. You really need to get more sleep if you want to be able to spend the rest of your life acting like you love me in front of everyone in the world.” She didn’t mean to end her words in a sob. 

Bellamy came to wrap his arms around her for comfort and she pushed him away, turned him around and ushered him towards the door that could only lead to their bedroom. “It’s time for you to get some sleep Bellamy. Doctor’s apprentice’s orders.” She pushed the door open and found a decent sized room with a bed, and that was it. The bed wasn’t as big as the bed they’d slept together in at the grounder village, they would have to sleep close every night, but it was piled high with pillows and blankets and comforters. The delinquents must have raided the stores to give them the best. For their marriage bed. Their fake marriage bed.

“Go to bed, Bellamy,” she said and shoved him inside. “I’m going to deal with the grounders and supplies. I’m on duty. You’re off. Please, get some sleep.”

“Clarke,” he said but she didn’t listen. She closed the door on him before he could see the traitorous tears leaking out of her eyes. She turned to look at her new home and there was still nothing but the rug and table laden with crap. Well hell, what was she going to do here? She might as well do what she said and take care of business. 

She grabbed the jar of moonshine and headed out the door before realizing that there was no way she was going back to the party. They would all see her crying. Away from her new husband. Lonely and sad, and not married at all. 

She wandered the espaliered orchard instead. Someone had figured out how to train young fruit trees into pretty shapes that fit between the paths and houses. It was lovely. Not at all like the wild woods, but she saw the little fruits swelling on the bent branches. She found an out of the way corner, under a curving espaliered arch and sunk down onto the ground with her moonshine and her tears.

She didn’t know how long she was there before Raven came back.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Raven said. “It turns out that prince guy, while super hot, talks about nothing but you. Clarke this. Clarke that. What does Clarke like? Does Bellamy go places with her? Where do they like to go? What do they like to do? Oh, well yeah, actually, no. He talked about nothing but you and Bellamy. It’s quite a blow to my ego being passed over for a couple who just got married. I’m still hot, right?”

Clarke peered up at her in the dark, only the stars and the lights on the wall lighting her. “You’re still hot. Miko wants to make our marriage a threesome, I think. And his sister wants to break us up. They don’t believe we’re really married.”

“Well that’s dumb.” Raven sat down on the grass next to her with only slight trouble because of her leg. “Anyone who watches you for more than a couple of minutes can see how into each other you are.”

Clarke blinked at her, feeling the mass in her chest break. “It’s not real, Raven,” she said, and it sounded more like a wail. 

“What the hell, Clarke,” Raven said, alarmed and put an arm around her Clarke sobbed into her shoulder.

“It’s fake, Raven. We just got married so I didn’t have to marry Miko or Mila. We had to tell them we were already engaged, and then act like it.”

“I knew it!”

Clarke cried, “Raven!”

“Sorry. I just knew you guys couldn’t have kept that secret from me. I’m going to get Jasper to give me my game tablet back. I made it, it’s mine. He won it under false pretenses and I…” Raven’s outrage faded at Clarke’s open mouth stare. “…I can’t tell him that I won the bet about you not being together for real.”

“You bet on our fake marriage?” Clarke couldn’t help the hurt in her voice. 

Raven scowled at her. “No. We made the bet way before that. I bet on this thing between you two not happening because you’re both stupid and refuse to be happy. He’s the one who said you’ve been screwing around for the last 6 months and lying about it.”

“Since I came back from Polis?”

“Yeah,” Raven said and reached for the jar of moonshine sitting in the grass next to Clarke. She held it up and sloshed the half empty jar. “You drink this all by yourself?”

Clarke nodded.

“Why?” She unscrewed the lid and took a swig, before closing it again carefully and turning to Clarke again. “Are you having an issue with your fake marriage already?” Clarke didn’t like the way she was looking at her. It was pretty dark and shadowed there under the espaliered arch, so she couldn’t really see Raven’s face, but she didn’t like the way she was looking at her anyway.

“We had to consummate our marriage in front of a witness to prove it was real before they would accept us into the alliance.”

The sound of laughter across the camp rose up. Then applause. It faded and left the faint murmur of the crowd. The sound system came on, playing a fast song, one that was popular in camp for dancing. They were dancing at the central bonfire, and Raven was sitting here, staring at Clarke in the dark waiting for her to keep speaking. Clarke swallowed and watched the leaves of the trees flutter in the breeze, listening to the distant music, before she could calm herself enough to continue in any way that was appropriate for this conversation. 

“I had sex with Bellamy,” she said coolly, “and then spent the entire day in a wagon with the people who didn’t believe us, in his arms, pretending to be newlyweds. Pretending to be in love with each other.”

Raven took another drink of moonshine and then leaned back on her hands, to watch her and wait for the rest of it.

“He said we couldn’t have sex again.”

The bass thrummed through the air, and Clarke could imagine that the dancing was getting a little sweaty at this point. It was the time in the celebration when people started looking for places to hook up. Clarke glanced at the silent Raven. Her eyes glinted at her in the dark.

“It complicates things. Muddies the boundaries.” A laugh broke from her then. It hurt. “I told him I was going back out to take care of the new Arkadians and the supplies and then I left.”

Raven pushed off of her hands and leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. She sighed heavily. “Yeah, you can’t go back out there in front of everybody in this state. Not on your wedding night. You’re supposed to be enjoying it. You’ll blow your story.”

“We already had our wedding night. And that was all I’m going to get.” Clarke wondered if Raven could hear the bitterness in her voice. She felt so bitter. It was a struggle not to start crying again. 

Raven sighed heavily again. More heavily, then struggled to her feet. She adjusted the dials on her brace for a while then reached a hand down to help Clarke up. 

“You’re both dumbasses. Go in there and talk to your idiot husband.”

Hearing Raven call Bellamy her husband sent emotions shooting through that she was not prepared for. Feelings of belonging and home. A desire to be in his arms. To be held. To wake up with him. To face the world together. To kiss him. To know. To know. 

To know.

She hung her head in defeat.

“You’ll figure it out, Clarke. You always do. Go.” Raven gave Clarke a little shove in the direction of her cabin, and then bent down to scoop up the moonshine. “I’m taking this.”

“That’s my wedding present,” Clarke grumbled.

“Yeah, well, your wedding was fake and you owe me a gaming tablet, so deal with it.”

Clarke and Raven walked back to her cabin. It was almost as if Raven didn’t trust her not to run away from facing this. She waited with her until Clarke actually turned the knob and went in. Clarke didn’t even hear her footsteps walk away until a few moments after Clarke locked the door behind her. 

The cabin was silent and Clarke assumed Bellamy had long since gone to sleep. There was only one lamp left lit, in the little kitchenette. She hadn’t turned off any lights when she’d gone, so Bellamy had done it, and left the light on for her when she came back. The gesture squeezed at her heart. Everything was already complicated. Bellamy was so wrong thinking that avoiding sex would keep things simple. Leaving the light on muddied boundaries for her, and she knew she was doomed. 

Clarke took off her jacket and hung it up on the built in hooks by the door. Bellamy’s jacket already hung there, and his boots were placed underneath, neatly. She unlaced hers and toed them off, setting them next to his. 

The cabin was chilly. It had been a warm day, but when the sun fell, the temperature dropped rapidly. Fall was coming. He hadn’t lit the fire in the fireplace, even though one was laid. Had he been too tired? Maybe he didn’t think it was cold enough to waste the wood. Maybe he’d planned to cuddle up under all those blankets on that cozy bed. 

Clarke bit her lip at her own yearning. 

“Dumbass,” she said. She wasn’t sure if she meant him or herself. But the sadness fell away, just a bit, and was taken over by a frustrated anger.

She went to their bedroom door and put her hand to the knob. Pausing, with a beating heart just for a moment. She heard a soft snoring coming from the other side of the door. She’d never heard him snoring before. Did that mean the times she’d slept near him, on missions or out in the woods, he’d never actually been really asleep? Dumbass.

She pushed the door open finally to see him, set up on the floor. Laying on a pile of blankets on the other side of the room from the bed. 

Fury rose in her. “Dumbass,” she muttered under her breath, really feeling the use of Raven’s favorite word tonight. She stalked over to him and shoved him with her foot. “Bellamy, get up!”

Bellamy leapt to his feet, immediately alert, his eyes darting around the room. “What is it?” His hand reached at his hip for his gun but it wasn’t there.

“Why the fuck are you sleeping on the floor?” Clarke stood there, her bare feet planted shoulder width, her fists on her hips. She swore to god she was going to fight this idiot.

He blinked and shook his head. “Clarke?” he said, peering behind her for whatever danger he thought she had woken him for. It was her. She was going to kill him. 

She stepped up to him and shoved him. “Get in the bed.”

“You woke me up out of sound sleep for this?” He planted his feet, too, and glared at her. He woke up ready to fight. 

She poked him in his chest with one rigid finger. “Bellamy. Whether you like it or not, we’re not getting out of this. However it started, it’s not fake. We’re married. The whole world knows it. You’re my husband and I’m your wife and we’re going to have to make the best of this.” She poked him again. Hard. “Get in the bed.”

“Ow,” he said and flared his nostrils. 

She sighed and gentled her hand against his chest. “Get in the bed, Bellamy. Don’t sleep on the floor. This is our home. This is our bedroom. I don’t want to fight you and I won’t make a move on you, okay? You—you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy and comfortable and get the sleep you need. This is our life for the foreseeable future. I really don’t think we’ll be able to get divorced for a couple of years at least, if we want to keep this alliance.”

She felt a growl in his chest beneath her fingers. She blinked and removed her hand. She sighed, and tried to keep the sadness out of it. She was just tired. “I’m going to sleep in our bed. I’ll keep my clothes on.” She climbed into the bed. It wasn’t big at all, but it was soft and comfortable. She moved over so there was room for him and they didn’t HAVE to touch. “It’s platonic, okay? Come on. We can do this. You’ve never been afraid to sleep beside me before.”

He muttered under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like, “says you,” but he also grabbed the pillows and blankets from the floor and joined her, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders and settling under them with her.

They didn’t touch, although she could feel his body heat next to her. She was sure it was the moonshine that made her dizzy, and not his warmth or his smell or his presence, and not this desire deep within her to lay her head on his chest and feel his strong arms hold her close again.

She closed her eyes and focused on convincing herself that it was not him that filled her head. It didn’t work, but at least the effort finally exhausted her so much that she fell down into sleep.


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy try to return to normal now that they are back in Arkadia, but what is normal now that they have been fake married. Everything is strange and wrong and lies. So how can it also feel so true?

She dreamed that night that Bellamy held her in his arms, cherished her. She dreamed that their house was a home and filled with everything they loved, together. She dreamed that this was where she belonged and so when she woke up in his arms, nestled into pillows and blankets, with the morning birdsong filtering through the white curtains along with the sun, she knew exactly where she was. She was home. 

‘Talk to your idiot husband,’ Raven had said. But she hadn’t. He’d slept on the floor instead of in their bed and it had made her feel so rejected, but waking up like this, with him holding her, his soft snore in her ear, she felt anything but rejected.

She was a little afraid to move, but she took a risk and shifted around so she was facing him instead of away. He stirred, but only pulled her closer and then nuzzled into her hair, without waking. She smiled. 

He did love her. She knew it. She KNEW it. They’d been dancing around it, but getting so close. The very night before they’d left Arkadia, he’d hugged her goodnight, and held her so long, his hands ghosting up and down her back, she’d been certain he was going to ask her to come back to his room with him. But he hadn’t. He’d pulled back and kissed her forehead and said they had a long day coming. He told her to get some rest, and walked away. He did love her, didn’t he? Was it as more than just his partner? His friend? He said he’d forgiven her for leaving him, but did forgiveness mean he was willing to risk her hurting him again?

She looked up at his sleeping face, calm and peaceful, free of the daily stresses, and wondered if he realized how much more restful sleep was when they were together? His hair curled into his face and his freckles were so much brighter when she saw them this close, she had to keep herself from brushing her fingers over them. She’d also never noticed how long and thick his eyelashes were. So pretty. Being this close to him made her happy. Just watching him like this.

She loved him and she knew he loved her, in some way, a way that could at least be a beginning, and if it hadn’t been for this stupid fake marriage, she knew they would have gotten there. She didn’t want to give up everything that he meant to her just because they got shoved into marriage before they were ready.

Those long eyelashes fluttered and her heart stuttered. His eyes were dark amber this close, in the morning light, with flecks of fire.

“Morning,” she said, unable to help the smile on her face.

“Clarke,” he whispered, and mirrored her smile.

He was happy to see her, to wake up with her in his arms. And then she watched as his memories filled in and he remembered the politics and the marriage and the lies and the arguments and she watched the happiness get shut down.

He kissed her forehead stiffly and then rolled away from her, planting his feet on the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. 

“Bellamy,” she said, sitting up.

“What is it?” he said, not moving. Distant.

Clarke’s heart broke, but she’d remembered who they were, now that they were home. Remembered that what happened in the grounder village may not have been real, but they were. Her heart broke for him, because he thought that the lie was the truth, somehow. 

“Bellamy,” she said again, and got up on her knees behind him. She brushed her palms over his shoulders. He dropped his hands from his face and let them hang between his legs. “It’s okay that we have this. This is who we are. Don’t let them change us, please?”

He twisted around to look at her. “Would we have done that if we hadn’t stood in front of the ambassador and gotten married? Would we have done that if we hadn’t… had sex to prove the marriage? Would we have done that if we weren’t faking for the whole of Arkadia?”

Clarke sat back on her heels and felt her mouth twist to the side. “I would have.”

He blinked and the wrinkle came up between his brows. “We’re home now Clarke. We need to get back to normal and get our work done and… I know it’s confusing now, but we’ll settle into it and figure it out.”

Clarke took a big breath, thinking before she spoke, but when she did, she was sure. “You’re right Bellamy. We do need to get back to our normal life, and maybe that will help us figure out what this all is, but you need to make me a promise.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “What?”

His suspicion that she was pulling something made her grin. “Don’t let what they made us do change who we are to each other.”

He cocked his eyebrow at her. “And you think last night didn’t change anything?”

Clarke bit her lip. It hadn’t changed anything about how she felt about him. Not one bit. She loved him just as much now as she had before they’d left for the grounder village. But maybe he wasn’t ready to hear that. She grinned then and shook her head. “Nope.” That was all he was getting. Let him think on it. 

He stood up, still in his clothes from yesterday, then he turned around to look at her. “Okay.”

“You’ve got to make me that promise, though. I know today is going to be busy and you’re going to get angry and frustrated and it’s going to be weird with the new changes, but promise me that you’ll come home tonight, and back to this bed, and not make it into something they are making you do. Because we’re still us, Bellamy.”

Bellamy licked his lip and then bit it. He nodded. “Okay. I promise I’ll come home tonight, and…” he paused. “I’ll come back to this bed. No more sleeping on the floor. I get it.” He shook his head slightly and blinked slowly and then took a deep breath. “It’s going to be a big day. We’ve got to get back to work, but…” He smiled at her, ducking his head and looking up through his bangs. Like he was shy about it. Her heart beat a little faster. “I’ll still see you around.”

“Like always Bellamy. Maybe we meet for lunch if we can swing it?”

He nodded and smiled, relieved. “Like always. As long as the schedule allows for it. I doubt I’ll be on a watch today, and you probably won’t be on infirmary duty, since we have to handle all these new citizens and debrief on the—“ a rapid blush rose to his cheeks, darkening them. “—The negotiations.”

The negotiations that had ended up with them, in bed together, hands all over each other, mouths. Thrusting. Clarke squirmed in the blankets as the memories came back to her. It was going to be hard to let Bellamy have this. To not make a move on him, because she knew without a doubt that she wanted him, naked in this bed, under her. Over her. Soft and gentle. Hard and punishing. She wanted it all. And when he scrambled off of the bed to stand on the other side of their room she watched him go. And let him. 

“I’m gonna go report,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

Clarke shook her head. “You can’t.”

“You said be normal.”

“Yeah. But it’s our first morning in Arkadia as a married couple. Come to breakfast with me. Okay? It’s not that different. It’s just we’ll walk in together instead of meeting there. Right? Because now we’re not hiding our relationship.”

“Oh. Right. Because we were hiding it before.”

“As far as anyone else is concerned, anyway.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s hard to keep it all straight. What’s fake and what’s real.”

Clarke huffed a laugh. Why was he so obsessed with everything being fake? “Just another undercover mission, right, Bellamy? Dressed as a mountain man or a grounder or my husband.”

He cocked his head at her. She pushed her wounded feelings down. “Come on, husband. Let’s go show them how married we are.”

And breakfast did feel almost normal. Their friends were intent on teasing them about their marriage, the worst was Raven. But to be honest that was normal too. It was just a different topic of teasing, so Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other and rolled their eyes, and if they sat closer together than they normally would, it was expected for the act. And it made it easier to lean over and whisper sweet nothings, which weren’t but looked like it to observers, at least as far as Clarke could tell by the way other people would point at them and grin.

“So you told Raven,” Bellamy whispered into her ear.

“Sorry,” she whispered back. “She won’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah I know,” he said as he brushed her hair back from her ear, “but she’s acting like she’s planning to do something very devious to me in retaliation.”

Clarke chuckled quietly. She caught Jasper looking at her with narrowed eyes. “She calls you dumbass, Bellamy.”

“She calls you the same thing, Clarke,” he breathed into her ear and Clarke had a hard time restraining the tingles that ran up and down her spine. She took a swallow of the chicory drink that the grounders had brought with them. It was pretty good with sweetener and milk and reminded her vaguely of the coffee she hadn’t had since coming down from The Ark. It was a tonic for the system, the grounders said, but it wasn’t really a tonic for Bellamy Blake. 

She shook it off and turned her attention to Monty until Bellamy stood up.

“Gotta go report to Kane, now.” He took his tray and started to walk away, but Clarke was still tingling with his whispers and hadn’t actually been separated from him for days. She reached out almost involuntarily and grabbed onto this jacket, pulling him back to her.

“Hey,” she said, looking up at him. His startled face gazed down on her and she couldn’t help the flutter in her eyelashes. “Kiss me goodbye,” she said and it came out throaty. She couldn’t help it. She nodded to him and swallowed, hoping he wouldn’t fight her.

She watched the reminder that they were married hit him again, and he took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before leaning down, without argument. He put his hand on her cheek and tilted her face up to him before brushing his lips across hers so gently she was stunned. And before she could react he pulled back, swiping his thumb across her slack lower lip. “See ya later, baby.” He smiled and then swept out of the cantina. 

Clarke turned back to the table, unable to breathe. Focusing on her plates and stilling her shaking hands. It took a while. 

When she finally looked up, everyone was back to normal, finishing up breakfast. Except for Jasper. He glared at her. It shocked her a little, but that was good because she was still reeling from the kiss. Then he reached into his cargo pocket and took out a small tech tablet. He slid it across the table to Raven and she looked up startled and glanced over, panicked at Clarke. “I didn’t tell him,” she mouthed.

Jasper got up with his tray and passed behind where she was sitting. She froze, nervously but he leaned down, much like Bellamy had, and whispered into her ear. “That was the first time he kissed you like that. You need to be a better actress or you’re going to blow it.” He paused and she looked at him, afraid. He had a sly grin on his face and glanced over at Raven before turning back to her. “Or practice more.” He sauntered off like he had a secret. Which he did. Raven looked at Clarke and then jumped up. “I got it,” she said, and chased after him. 

All Clarke could do was ignore it. She had to check in with her mom. 

“No med center duties today, Clarke. We’re pulling you off medical training for a while while I work with the new grounder citizens. You’re not done with being an ambassador. Get to the council at 9 for the debriefing, then check in with the new grounder citizens for their orientation. After that, you have to clear out your rooms of personal belongings. They are being claimed by new residents.”

“Right,” Clarke said. “Because I’m married now.”

Abby shrugged, apologetically.

It wasn’t the first time she’d been taken off of med training for ambassador duties, so she brushed off the feeling of unease. The council meeting was starting soon and her mom had med business to take care of before then, but she wondered when the next time she’d get her mom alone would be, and a question bothered her.

“Mom, why did you tell the ambassador that Bellamy and I were engaged?”

Abby looked at her, amused. “Clarke, honey, did you WANT to marry a grounder?”

Clarke scoffed. “No! Of course not.” She shivered at the thought of that wedding night with either the hainofi or the hainofa. One was too harsh and the other was too… eager. Even though they were both beautiful, neither of them was… right. “But why Bellamy? Why was that the plan? We could have come up with something. My age or sky people customs or… I don’t know, maybe that I refused anyone since Lexa.”

Abby’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “I couldn’t say that, Clarke, no one would believe it.”

“Why not?”

“I guess you don’t remember the way you were clinging to Bellamy when they mentioned you marrying their choice. Or the way he wouldn’t let you go?” She sighed heavily like it wasn’t actually something she wanted to admit. “I picked him because the truth is, you’re already married, and he’s who you should be with.”

“Mom, that’s not true. We’re partners. We WERE partners. That was all. And I know it’s special, but that was all, just partners and friends who trust each other. We’re not… we never…” Clarke’s words failed her. “Now everything is different and he’s freaking out.”

Abby stood up, like she was suddenly impatient. “Clarke, you’re in love. And everyone knows it. Why do you think that party last night was so enthusiastic? Why do you think they bought that story so easily? I didn’t want you to have to do that, but just like Bellamy said, “it would have happened anyway.’ We just pushed it up.”

Clarke shook her head. “That was just part of the story. The act. He didn’t mean it.”

Abby raised her hand for silence. “Clarke, for goodness sake. You weren’t alone in that council room. He wouldn’t let go of you, either. He couldn’t bear to let you marry those grounders. It wasn’t out of friendship. Or sky person loyalty. It was you. And I wasn’t going to let them force you into a marriage of convenience when…” she sighed.

Clarke stared dumbfounded. “But he won’t… he doesn’t want…” 

“Please, Clarke, I need to finish up these training schedules before the council meeting. Can I talk to you about it later?” She turned back to her desk and started muttering. Clarke heard ‘emotionally stunted,’ and ‘glad I’m not still nineteen years old,’ before she retreated, her mind whirling. 

When Clarke got to the council room, Bellamy was already there, slumped in his seat glowering, his arms folded over his chest.

“What’s the matter?” Clarke

“It’s not over, Clarke. We’re expected to be performing monkeys forever. They are partnering me with Mila. That’s how we ‘become one people.’” He scoffed. 

“Partner?” Clarke repeated. He was her partner. 

Bellamy nodded. “And you are partnered with Miko. He’s supposed to teach you about grounder culture.”

“I spent all that time in Polis! I already know about grounder culture.”

He rolled his eyes. “Apparently not.”

Now the unease at the new assignment made sense. “I’m a medical trainee. I’m training to be a doctor. He’s not a healer.”

Kane stood up from the other side of the empty council room. “Right now, Clarke, you’re being trained to be an ambassador, and that means you need to know more about the people we are allied with. And you need to be able to teach him what he needs to know about us. He’s their singer. Their historian. What he learns will be spread to the rest of the grounders.”

“Well then why me? Bellamy is the one knows all about history. The one who understands the people.”

Kane took a breath to argue and then stopped. “You’re right. Bellamy, you’ll be working with Clarke and Miko. That is good. Between the two of you, not only will you teach him what is important, but you will also be able to catch details we should know that one alone would miss. Yes. Make it a team effort. I expect full reports from every meeting. If they’re anything like your mission reports, Bellamy, I’m sure they will be not only informative, but entertaining.”

“What’s wrong with my mission reports?” Clarke said, insulted that he wasn’t praising hers. 

“Nothing. You regularly give a great view of the essential issues, an insightful over view, an understanding of the meaning and intentions behind all the events, but you don’t tend to focus on the details of the mission. Together however, yes. That’s an excellent plan. I can rearrange your schedules to fit it all in. Although, Bellamy, I’ll be taking you off guard duty.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve been depending upon you too much. You’re needed elsewhere. Other people can guard the walls. We’ll keep you on missions, outside of daily training. And also on weapons training, as Mila asked specifically for you to train the new grounders in weapons. As she will be the one training us in grounder weapons.”

“So you’re aware, aren’t you,” Bellamy said sternly, glaring at Kane, “that Mila and Miko are both trying to break up our marriage, and yet you are throwing us together.” 

“Oh are they?” Kane looked at him blankly. “You don’t have anything to worry about, do you? Or would it be a better idea to get to know them and maybe make our alliance with the grounders stronger? Honestly, I can’t see a drawback either way.” He smiled at Bellamy and Clarke watched in fascination as Bellamy’s face got darker with some suppressed emotion. Clarke wondered what had happened between them before she’d entered the council room.

But she didn’t get the chance to answer because the rest of the council began to filter in for the meeting. The rest of the debriefing was mostly her mother bringing everyone up to date on the concessions and agreements, half of which were made after Bellamy and Clarke had already exited for their personal part of the negotiations. So Clarke sat back and listened and watched Bellamy sit, silently, stewing. Glaring at Marcus and Abby and refusing to meet Clarke’s eyes. 

They had lunch after the council meeting that went on far too long, and it was, again, normal. If you counted one of Bellamy’s dark days as normal, when he glared at everyone and refused to speak unless it was to snap. So. Normal. 

But Clarke was his wife now, and not only did she have a right, but according to the looks and gestures made by her friends, she had a duty to bring him out of his mood. She put her sandwich down and leaned into his arm. She didn’t have to, but she wanted to reach up and rake her fingers through his hair. She loved his hair. “Hey, Bellamy, what’s wrong?” she murmured into his ear. 

He closed his eyes before bringing up an arm around her back and turning to her. “I don’t want to talk about it here.” Clarke nodded.

“At home?” she said, and it was innocuous, but his eyes caught hers and they warmed her. 

“Home,” he said. And it brought a smile to her face that she tried to repress.

He was lighter after that, but then lunch was over and they went to clear out their old quarters, separately, so new residents could be assigned there. Clarke’s room was too small to be given to one of the new, high status, grounder citizens, so one of the delinquents, newly 18, was getting it. She helped Clarke pack up her things and couldn’t stop talking about her new duties in the kitchens, and how what she learned at the dropship made her so much more of an authority than all the meek arkers already working there. She brought in all the foraged mushrooms and nuts and vegetables and showed the cooks how to prepare them. Clarke was proud that their delinquents were growing up and proving themselves in Arkadia.

A guy with a trolley came by and they loaded it up with her clothes and work stuff. She didn’t have that much, but she did get to take her desk and comfy chair and the things she had collected since coming back to Arkadia. There was a whole art kit that Bellamy had found in a bunker. It should have been broken up and shared with all, but he’d given it directly to her, and she couldn’t bear to part with it. There was the painting that Bellamy had salvaged from Mount Weather even before she had come back, and he’d kept in his closet waiting for her return. She’d told him about it on their walk back to Camp Jaha and he’d gone and got it for her. Starry Night. She’d never leave that behind. It was actually a treasure of humanity, and she felt guilty for having it. And then there was the stack of books that Bellamy had been slowly finding and dropping off for her to read, because he was done with them, but he read so much faster than she did and the stack was only getting bigger. And the chess set he’d gotten for her so she could teach him how to play, some day, although they had never gotten to that day, yet. 

Clarke stopped for a minute and realized that all of the things she had that she valued had come from him. She blinked. When she was out scavenging, she was never looking for things for herself, but always focused on survival. She was looking for tech and medical supplies. But he was thinking about her. 

They carted her stuff over to her new cabin. Clarke told the girl to stay behind and get her new room set up, even though she wanted to help. Clarke really just wanted to be alone with Bellamy in their house, so she could ask him about…she wasn’t sure what. She just needed to talk to him.

But after unloading her few belongings, setting up the chair by the fireplace, and the chess set in front of it, she waited for Bellamy to come home so she could help him unpack. But he didn’t. His stuff showed up with a bunch of guards to move it, Miller at the head.

“Bellamy got called away to the hunt so we’re helping him move. Apparently there’s a herd of some sort of deer, and Mila wants to show him how they trap them.”

“Mila…” Clarke said, watching as the burly guards manhandled Bellamy’s couch onto the rug in front of the fire place.

“What are you, barbarians?” Miller said. “Not in the middle of the rug. Put it off to the side so people can talk to each other. No! Facing the chair. Are you kidding me?”

Miller directed the guards on where to put the furniture and boxes. There were side tables and another desk. Book shelves and art work. Bellamy had collected far more stuff than she had. There was even a set of delicate glasses with gold rims, and Miller placed them carefully in the kitchen, himself. 

“Raven said you thought you should get to go through Bellamy’s stuff. I see she was right.”

Miller stepped away from the pretty glasses and smirked at her. “Raven said you’d be possessive of Bellamy’s stuff. I see she was right.”

Clarke opened her mouth to retort, but Miller just laughed. “I have to send my guys back to work. You want me to stay and help you unpack his stuff? If you watch me, you can make sure I don’t take any liberties.”

“Stop,” she said, squirming a little with embarrassment. Miller had never teased her about Bellamy before. “You don’t have to stay. I’ve got the rest.”

He nodded and smiled. It was a big smile and unreserved. She had always felt that Miller kind of held back from her, ever since she’d come back, as if he was waiting for her to leave again. Not today, though. “Okay, I’ll see you back here before dinner.”

“What? Did you make plans with Bellamy?”

“No. You’re having a housewarming party.”

“I am? Do I get a say in this?”

Miller laughed as he opened the door to leave. “Nope. You skipped out on the party last night, and we are going to take advantage of your celebrity. Murphy made the point that you never got the celebration you deserved for getting us that alliance, and if we played our cards right we could get in on it. So Raven requisitioned the celebration meal from the kitchen as head of tech. Council approved.” 

Council approved meant her mother or Kane… or both. Clarke was feeling a little ganged up on. 

“We get a cake,” Miller went on, grinning. “And the fancy food from the grounders. I helped them take inventory. I want some of that. I think we’re getting a pork loin, too, and the good wine that even the grounders have to trade for. And you owe us for lying to us. So we’ll see you back here later, so we can properly make you suffer. Or, you know, celebrate.” He winked at her and then closed the door, leaving her there to decide if she was dreading this party or looking forward to it. 

She stacked Bellamy’s books in his shelves and put his file boxes in the small extra room that they were going to use as an office. She didn’t want to go through his clothes. That felt too intimate somehow, so she left those crates stacked in the bedroom by their small closet. And then she sat down to wait. She took out her sketch pad and art kit and thought maybe she would draw, but her mind was blank and she kept going off into a daze, staring out the window, where the white curtains were pulled aside to let in the light and air. 

Raven was the first to arrive. “This is much better than a room in the Ark ring or the dorms. I think the rest of us should start getting fake married just so we can get cabins. You even get a kitchen. Like, you don’t have to eat with the rest of the assholes. You can be independent. Who should I fake marry, Clarke?”

“You don’t want to get fake married.” 

“Well, I’d rather get real married but it’s not like I have any candidates. Ark men suck. I could fake marry Jasper, he’s fun… but he gets too attached. He’d end up like you, wanting it to be real and miserable.”

“Oh and I suppose you’d be like Bellamy, all cool and untouchable.”

Raven looked at her, startled, and then fell onto the couch laughing. 

“Raven,” Clarke said, “Raven….” But Raven couldn’t stop laughing long enough to talk. But then Monty and Jasper showed up and Jasper started rearranging the furniture for a better “party flow,” while Monty set up a bar area.

“Miller said wine, right?” he asked from the kitchen. “I wasn’t sure so I brought some moonshine just in case. Where’s the wine?”

“We haven’t had dinner yet, Monty, don’t break out the moonshine just yet, okay? Everyone is going to get sick.” Clarke was already starting to dread this. She should want to be with her friends, but she was already on edge, and just wanted to be alone with Bellamy and figure things out. She realized how antsy she felt not having him right there next to her, like he’d bent he last few days. They were home. She was in THEIR home, but he wasn’t there, and some part of her felt unfinished because of it. It was a feeling that she wasn’t really ready to examine, and she all of a sudden regretted telling Monty that it was too early to drink.

But in no time at all, the kitchens delivered a small feast. Murphy and Emori came next and she set out all the grounder delicacies. Clarke’s little kitchen area was packed with treats, some of which she had never seen, not even in her time in Polis. Harper came with a huge bouquet of flowers that they had to put on the floor, because she didn’t have a free table large enough to hold them. Miller and Bryan showed up with a wedding present. An old turntable in a case and a crate full of antique vinyl records to play on it. 

“It’s so bulky,” Miller said. “You guys are the only ones with room to actually keep it.” He set it up on top of Bellamy’s book shelf, while Bryan went through the records to pick the right one.

“Don’t listen to him, Clarke,” Bryan said, pulling out a record called ’The Supremes.’ “He made room for this thing. He’s just that happy for you guys.”

The music played. Jasper handed Clarke a plate full of food that she had trouble eating. Monty handed her a glass of dark red wine, using Bellamy’s gold rimmed glasses, and she had no trouble getting that down. She chatted with her friends and smiled and enjoyed their company, but her eyes kept going to the door waiting for it to open.

“He’ll be here, Clarke, stop worrying,” Raven said.

Clarke took a drink of wine. “I’m not worried,” she said, and was surprised to find that it was true. She wasn’t worried, even though he had gone out hunting. She just wanted him there, with her. 

When the door finally opened and Bellamy walked in, it was almost dark. Clarke had already had her wine taken away and a new plate of food shoved into her hands, but she set it down and was in his arms before she even planned to move.

“You’re here,” she breathed.

His arms were tight around her. “Where did you think I was going to go?” and his voice was amused. “I promised, didn’t I?”

Clarke laughed at herself. “No, you’re right. I’m being silly,” she pulled back but he didn’t let her go. 

“I’m not done saying hello, baby,” he said, and then cupped the back of her head and kissed her thoroughly. Their friends whooped and hollered and applauded, but Clarke knew it was too much. He wouldn’t kiss her like this in front of their friends. She peeked over his shoulder and sure enough, there were Mila and Miko. 

She nuzzled his ear. “What are they doing here?”

He brushed her hair back. “Council’s orders. Kane said to invite them.”

She wished she could get Bellamy alone to talk to him, but there was no way, now that their friends finally got them both back. They monopolized Bellamy, and her, too, she recognized. The teasing was relentless but well meaning, even if it made her feel guilty that she had to keep lying about their relationship. All in all she was handling it well, and knew she’d get a chance to talk to Bellamy all alone when everyone went home. Her stomach leapt at the thought of being alone with Bellamy.

But then Miko pulled Bellamy up to the clear part of the floor to teach him a grounder dance, and stood behind him with his hands on Bellamy’s hips, showing him the movements and Clarke could not watch.

While everyone was laughing about the dancing lesson, Clarke slipped out the door to get some air.

She was staring at the stars, remembering the constellations that Bellamy had taught her when she heard the door open and a presence come to stand next to her. She wished it to be Bellamy.

“Will you share him?” Mila said softly.

She’d known it wasn’t Bellamy, but she couldn’t help the disappointment. “No.” The word came out like a growl.

Mila laughed. “No offense meant, Wanheda.”

Clarke’s hands fisted at her side. 

“I told him it would not work, but he still believes he can achieve it. I would rather have you,” Mila said, her voice pitched for her ears only. Clarke finally looked at her. Her smile was self mocking. “But you are not available.”

“Of course I’m not available. I’m married,” Clarke snapped. 

Mila shook her head. “Come now, Wanheda,” Clarke glared at her. “Clarke. Odun told us your engagement was false. ”

“What?” Clarke froze. The trap had been sprung.

“False. You were never engaged. You were never in a romantic relationship. Odun is never fooled. You married only for the alliance, so you would not have to marry one of us.”

“Th-then why did your people accept our marriage as real. Why did you accept the alliance?” Clarke was afraid of the answer.

“Because Odun also said you were deeply in love and being stupid children. She said your connection was true and your marriage would be real and unshakeable given time.”

Clarke could not speak. Her throat was dry.

“My brother and I, being stupid children ourselves, refused to listen to that part of Odun’s decision. We decided that an untested relationship should be tested. We believed that one of us, or both of us could succeed in breaking your marriage and securing the alliance more tightly for our people.”

“That— seems very aggressive.”

“Yes, well. I realized on our trip that there was no hope in courting you. You see nothing but Bellamy Klir Skai. I thought I should make an attempt on Bellamy, despite his being my second choice, and for a while, I had hope. He was open and interested and curious. But after my time today with him on the hunt, I realized that is how he treats all people he accepts as part of his kru.”

Clarke could not help the happiness in her chest.

“But I am older than my brother by a few years and he is not as wise as I. Nor does he see as clearly where he has desire. He is intent on wooing the both of you. I told him you were in love, but he thinks that if he can seduce your husband, that you will accept him into your bed and marriage to make Bellamy happy.”

Clarke felt a surge of adrenaline. Her breath came heavily and for a moment, she saw white.

Mila giggled. The sound startled Clarke and she turned to look at the woman. Giggling? Her smile was huge and youthful. “Oh, Wanheda. Wait. Let me go in first. I would like to witness the whole thing. You sky people are so strange and stiff, but I am beginning to like you.”

“You wanted to marry me,” Clarke growled.

“Because you are beautiful and powerful, not because I liked you. But now I would like to see you go up against my brother. He did not believe the tales about you. He knows how people exaggerate legends. I can find someone else beautiful and powerful to marry.” Mila looked at her seriously for a moment. “Tell me about your friend Raven Reyes. She is the one who destroyed the dam, yes?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes and nodded slowly. Mila thought she would play with them? “Raven told me today she was looking to marry someone.”

Mila’s eyes brightened in interest and the smile came back, before she got an intent look on her face and turned to go back in the cabin. 

Clarke had thought she was harsh, but now she was beginning to think that had just been Mila on the hunt. The thought of Mila hunting Raven amused her. She wasn’t sure who she meant get revenge on, Raven or Mila. Both of them had been conspiring against her and Bellamy. Clarke was almost certain that Raven could handle Mila. And if they got along, then well, it was all for the best. Mila wasn’t the only one who would enjoy what was about to happen at that party. 

Mila left the door open. The night was cooling, but the room was warm, lit by the fire, the people, the music, and stars help her, how she felt about Bellamy.

Bellamy was now dancing very closely with Miko. Clarke sighed and glanced at Mila, who bit her lip with eager eyes and sat down next to Raven. Mila nudged her, pointing at Bellamy and Miko, and said something Clarke couldn't hear. Clarke sent her a dirty look and she grinned, while Raven’s lips fell open into an astonished “o”. 

Clarke marched right over to Miko and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to face her.

“Clarke!” he cried, delightedly and let his gaze fall to her cleavage. His eyes were a bit glassy. He smelled like moonshine. 

“Clarke,” Bellamy said, warningly. She’d been watching him. Bellamy hadn’t really had much to drink at all. So he had chosen to do this on purpose, and not under the influence of alcohol. 

“Later,” she told Bellamy before turning back to Miko. “Listen Miko…” she said. 

“Dance with me,” he crooned and wrapped her up in his muscular arms, swaying with his hips against hers. 

“Uh uh,” she said, pressing firmly on his hard chest. Stepping back and holding him away. “This?” she waved her hand between Bellamy and herself. “This is between me and Bellamy. We are not an open relationship. We are not looking for a third. We are not interested in anyone else.” She was afraid just for a second that she was overstepping her bounds, declaring their relationship to be something that it wasn’t. What if Bellamy wanted Miko? Could she stand in his way? Would she be willing to accept Miko? She would for Bellamy, if that was what he wanted, but she didn’t want him to want anyone else. She glanced at Bellamy, frightened.

But Bellamy didn’t look angry. He didn’t look like she was stepping on his toes and getting into his business. He smiled softly at her and his eyes glowed. He was very still and he just watched her. And only her. 

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Not for sex. Not for relationship. Not for alliance. Okay?” 

The music scratched to a halt, clicking with a rhythmic beat as the needle went around. Miller jumped up to turn it off. The room got silent. Miko all of a sudden seemed really young. He couldn’t be any older than her, she realized. She felt a little bad for him, thrust into a new society, with this mission that was failing. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I like you, but he’s mine.”

She looked out at the rest of her friends and they were all staring, with giant smiles and bigger eyes. She rolled her eyes at them. “One of you get him a drink or something.”

Jasper and Raven both jumped up at the same time, heading to the wine. She didn’t know what she had just started with that, but Mila looked put out at losing Raven’s warm body next to her, and maybe also that there wasn’t a more explosive confrontation with her brother. Clarke was suddenly very glad to be married, to not have to deal with any of it.

Bellamy touched her elbow and she stepped closer to him.

“What was that, Clarke?” he asked, his voice low. She leaned into him.

“Stop flirting with him,” she told him. She knew she’d stepped out of line. None of that was acting. None of this was acting. She was making a claim on him and she was terrified. 

His arms circled her waist. “I’m yours?”

She couldn’t hug him. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hold onto him. She knew it was fake for him, and she couldn’t touch him in a way, right now, that would force him to accept how real it was for her. The whole concept of their fake relationship and how real it was even in its fakeness made her dizzy. She dropped her head to his chest even as her hands hung uselessly by her side.

“I love you,” she said simply. Not whispered to hide. Not declared for everyone to hear. Just stated, as the fact it was. A fact that he probably took as part of the act. 

The music came back on. All her friends turned away, doing whatever it was they were doing. Talking about whatever it was she didn’t know. All she knew was how Bellamy stood frozen, his breath going in and out, slowly. She turned her head and rested her ear above his heart. It was beating fast. 

“Clarke…” he said, and stopped, as if he wanted to say more. He glared at Miller.

“What is it?” Clarke whispered against his chest as she looked up at him. He glared at Miller again. Clarke curled her hands up under her chin. She was scared. She’d pushed things. She shouldn’t have pushed things. “Bellamy, what is it?”

He just shook his head tightly and held onto her, no speaking, only glaring at Miller.

Miller took a big breath. “So yeah, I hope you like the record player. I like the MP3 player better, but you know, you’re weird and you like ancient history so you’ll probably get some use out of it. What do you say you and I get out of here, Bryan? Anyone want to go to the look out point and watch the stars?”

And in a confusion of packing up the leftover food and grabbing snacks to take with them on their star watching, the party filtered out. 

“Leave the wine, Jasper,” Bellamy said, out of nowhere. Clarke jumped. She was so keyed up, so frightened for whatever was coming next. She’d pushed. 

“Dammit,” Jasper said, putting the cask back down on the table, as Raven shoved him out the door, then she hustled everyone else out. She winked at Clarke and shut the door, giving the knob a wiggle to make sure it latched from the other side. 

Bellamy let go of her and with a few swift steps was at the door. He locked it.

He leaned up against the door and looked at her. “Clarke what the hell was that. I said don’t say that anymore. It’s not part of the act.”

She flared her nostrils. But anger didn’t hold back the sting of tears. “It’s not an act, Bellamy.” She worked very hard to not yell at him, knowing that all her friends were probably still within yelling distance. “I love you.”

He stared at her.

The record kept going. She didn’t know what record it was. She hadn’t caught what Miller had put on. But she really didn’t want to hear it anymore. She stepped over to it and dragged the arm off. The needle scratched across the record and she felt ragged. “Sorry. Sorry. Fuck. This is a disaster.” She fumbled with the machine. Turning it off and then just, dropping it. Leaving it the way it was. She was bad. It was an antique and she should take care of it but she had reached the end and her panic took over.

She turned around and fled into the bedroom. She pulled off her boots and fell onto the bed, hiding her head under the pillow.

She heard when he came into the room anyway. Here was the problem with living with Bellamy. She couldn’t run away from how she loved him. He would follow her. She felt the side of the bed shift as he sat down. 

He lifted the pillow off of her head and she whimpered.

“I made you a promise, Clarke. I said I’d come back tonight, to this bed. I promised that I wouldn’t let them change us.”

Clarke sighed and rolled over to look at him. She brushed away the stupid tears. 

“Are you letting them change you?” he asked. “Was that because of them?”

She kicked his thigh because he was an asshole. “No.”

“Ow,” he said and smiled as he rubbed where she kicked him. “You love me? For real?”

She scowled at him and kicked his thigh again. This time he caught her foot. “You love me,” he repeated. He pulled her foot down and slid his hand up her leg to her hip. Clarke blinked. “You love me.” He leaned over her, his hand stroking her arm now. “You love me?”

“Yes!” she cried, not really daring to hope but not really being able to help it. His hand had left a trail of sensation up her side and she was craving more. She shifted so that he was mostly on top of her. “How many more times are you going to need to hear it?”

He huffed a breath and closed his eyes. “A million,” he said. “A trillion.” Then he kissed her and the world stopped. She slid her hands up his chest to his face, his beloved face.

“Is it real?” she asked when he pulled back for a breath.

He nodded. “I love you Clarke, god. I love you so damn much. I couldn’t take the lying. I never wanted it to happen like this. It wasn’t… I couldn’t…I couldn’t pretend and…” his words stumbled and he couldn’t go on. He drew in a broken breath.

She pulled him into her arms, rolling over so she could cradle his head against her chest. “I’m so sorry, Bellamy.”

He laughed. “What are you sorry for? They forced you to marry, too.”

“I’m sorry it hurt you, Bellamy. I’m sorry I was too scared and worried to figure it out. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you sooner.”

He ran his hand over her stomach. “You did. But I thought you were playing the game. I thought I was part of the game.”

She fell silent, half just feeling the way the heat of his palm felt through her shirt, and half remembering how he’d reacted when she told him she loved him before.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, and this time his fingers found their way under her shirt and when he caressed her, it was skin to skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry I forgot who we were to each other. I’m sorry I let what they did change us.”

His voice was deep and resonant and vibrated through her. She combed her fingers through his silky curls, letting her eyes float closed as his rough hand slid its way across her belly, up to her ribs, down to her hips, across the waistband of her pants that suddenly felt too tight and uncomfortable, and she couldn’t quite suppress the quiet moan that escaped her. 

He looked up at her and smiled. “I like this,” he said.

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

He turned his head and kissed the top of her breast, letting his tongue flick the bare skin above her shirt.

“Bellamy…”

“Hmm?” he hummed into her skin.

“Make love to me?”

He pulled back, leaning on his elbow, his brows drawing down.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Clarke asked, reaching out to him. 

“It feels wrong.”

Tears welled up in her eyes and she couldn’t stop them. They were so close to the surface all the time for the last few days. 

He pulled her into him. “No, no, no,” he said, kissing first one eyelid, then the other. Kissing her tears away. “I want you. I love you. It’s this marriage. It’s their proof that they required. It’s all wrong and I don’t want it tainting us.”

Clarke shoved at his chest. “I hate you Bellamy,”

He grabbed her hand and held it over his heart. “No you don’t. You love me.” He grinned, a little sadly.

She pulled him closer and tucked her nose into his neck. “I hate you too,” because he was right and she felt like it was cheating somehow. The whole marriage. Their whole relationship. When they’d had sex. “I didn’t want it to be like that, either. I thought I would kiss you soon. I was so close. I wanted to.”

“And then I had to kiss you for proof of our nonexistent relationship.” He sighed. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. That wasn’t how I wanted it to be for our first kiss. But I couldn’t tell you that in front of the ambassador. I couldn’t tell you anything. It’s like everything that happened between us didn’t even matter, all for that one lie.”

“But what other choice did we have?”

“I never would have let them force you to marry a grounder. That just wasn’t going to happen.”

Clarke sighed. “I don’t know how to fix this. I love you and you love me, but these pretenses—“

He pulled her close to him. “Marry me,” he said, scarcely more than a whisper.

“What?”

“Marry me.” He said it louder this time.

“We’re already married. The whole world knows it.”

“No we’re not. Marry me for real, because you want to. Because I want to. Make it our choice. Not for anyone else but us.”

Clarke swallowed and blinked. They wouldn’t have done this if they hadn’t been forced into it, but she couldn’t imagine going backwards. She wanted him with her all the time. She trusted him more than anyone. She believed in him. She depended on him. He was her best friend and she wanted this. She wanted it real. 

“Yes,” she said. “I will marry you.”

He smiled, so broadly it was blinding. She laughed and reached up to pull him down into another kiss. A real one. Every kiss from now on would be real. They settled into each other. Learning each other. Telling stories with their lips and tongues and hands. She pulled off her shirt and got his off, too. She put her hand to his buckle and stopped. 

“Make love to me now?”

He bit his swollen lip and shook his head. “I want it to be ours. Not until we’re married.”

She scowled at him. “If we hadn’t been forced to marry and I told you I loved you, you would have had me pressed up against a tree in thirty seconds.”

He grinned crookedly. “Nope. I would have taken you to my bed we would have stayed up all night and I would have made you come a half a dozen times. I've imagined it a thousand times, what I'd do to you. Where I would put my mouth, my hands," he gripped her hip hard. "How I would make you moan my name.”

“Well fuck, Bell,” Clarke gasped and ground against him.

He laughed breathlessly. “A lot of fucking, Clarke. We would have fucked a lot.”

“You told me not to call it that between us.”

“That was when it was all political, now that it’s love, we get to fuck,” he said and nibbled on her ear, “and screw,” he bit her collarbone and she shivered. He pulled back to look at her with a surprised smile. “Oh, you like that?” He swept his finger across her collarbone and down her chest between her breasts, settling his hand on the curve of her waist. “And make love as much as we want.”

“But you want to wait until we get married for real?” she asked, although she already knew.

He looked at her wryly and nodded.

Clarke sighed, running her hands over his chest and shoulders. “Can we get married very soon, Bellamy?”

“Oh hell yes,” he rolled over her and pulled her on top of him and she kissed him and he kissed her and all their touches were made with joy and love. They fell asleep wrapped around each other and it was true.


	6. Oaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hoops they have to jump through.
> 
> Bellamy and Clarke get married again.

Clarke was afraid to open her eyes, afraid that last night was just a dream. That she hadn’t confessed her love to him and he hadn’t told her he loved her. That he hadn’t made her dizzy with his attention. That they hadn’t kissed and caressed until she had fallen asleep with his breath against her ear.

She steadied her nerves and then looked. 

There he was. Soft and beautiful, steel underneath, but relaxed into sleep, into her arms, into her bed, into their love. She could not resist. This time she did not resist.

With one delicate finger, she traced the arc of his face, from eyebrow to cheekbone, over the fine skin with its tracery of scars, freckles. She ran it down the bridge of his nose until she reached his shapely lips and then she traced the curve of his upper lip and then the full softness of his lower one.

His mouth stretched into a smile and he kissed her finger, and let out a little puff of air.

Clarke ran her hand ran across his sculptured jaw, and down the strong tendons of his neck to his bare chest, caressing his hard muscles, his velvet skin. He was so beautiful, so wonderful, so dear, and he was here with her. His eyes were still closed.

“Good morning,” she said, trembling just a little bit.

She felt the chuckle rising in his chest more than heard it, and then he opened his eyes, smiling down into her face. “Good morning, Clarke.”

She could not breathe.

He licked his lips and the world stopped until he kissed her. And then the world spun around her, as she melted into him, his warmth and strength and taste. The sounds of his pleased humming as he kissed her. His smells of musk and spice and skin. The way his tongue struck sparks in her all the way down to her toes.

He pulled back, and she was so dizzy with him that all she could do was let him, clutching weakly at his shoulders.

“This is real,” he said, no question. His voice barely louder than a whisper, soft and resonant and amazed. 

She swallowed and nodded. “Yeah,” she said and it came out as only a breath.

“Good,” he said, and then he was caressing her the same way she had him. Starting with her face, her lips, down her clavicle coming to rest over her heart, beating strong. “Can I say it again?” he said sleepily.

Clarke nodded wordless.

“I love you.”

It didn’t matter how many times he’d said it last night, it still made her heart swell. “Marry me,” she said, and the words just popped out.

He laughed and pulled her to him, nipping at her jaw and neck. “Yes,” he said.

“Soon,” she said, reaching for his nape, tangling his silky curls around her fingers. “Marry me soon. I want so much, Bellamy…”

His laugh caught in his throat and he devoured her mouth in a kiss, clutching at her ass and pressing his hard-on into her pelvis through their underwear. She let her nails scratch down his back and ground up into him.

He pulled away from her then and slammed his fist down on the bed. “Dammit. I have to be at the west gate for another grounder hunting lesson.” He swiped at his face like he was trying to clear the thoughts. “I didn’t want to stop,” he said from behind his palm.

“Really?” Clarke said eagerly, leaning up on his chest and pulling his hand down from his face. “Does that mean we were going to keep going? I would have liked to keep going with that.”

He looked up at her through his lashes and smirked at her. “It meant I was going to keep going with you and you were going to keep coming.”

“Bellamy!” she gasped.

“Too bad duty calls.” He leaned up and kissed the tip of her nose before rolling out from under her and jumping out of bed. “You coming to breakfast with me before I go on duty?” He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders and his neck and then he stood there staring down at her, half naked, astonishing her with his beauty. 

“I think you are a tease, Bellamy Blake,” she said. 

He grinned down on her. “I think you like it, Clarke Griffin,” he said, then paused, a quizzical look on his face. “Are we keeping our own names? Or should I call you Clarke Blake now?”

Clarke startled and swung her legs out so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Clarke Blake sounds awful. Clarke Blake Clarke Blake Clarke Blake.” She made a face and shuddered. “What do you think of Bellamy Griffin?”

He shrugged. “It definitely sounds better than Clarke Blake, that’s for sure. How do you feel about Griffin-Blake instead?”

“Clarke Griffin-Blake?” She thought about it. The name set off flutters in her stomach. 

“Bellamy Griffin-Blake,” he said. The flutters in her stomach took flight and filled her up and she floated into his arms, nodding emphatically, kissing him all over his face and neck and chest and anywhere she could. Bellamy Griffin-Blake. He was hers.

He laughed and spun her around. “We can announce our new name at our wedding.”

“Our real wedding,” she said.

He kissed her again, soundly then set her down and slapped her ass. She squealed.

“Is this who you are? Bellamy? A person who slaps me on the ass?”

“This is who Bellamy Griffin-Blake is.” He grinned.

She pushed off from him. “Oh no, that’s not happening. If I don’t get to fuck you until we’re married, you don’t get to slap me on the ass until we’re official, either.”

His eyebrow quirked up, “you sure about that?” he asked, leering at her.

She gasped. “Stop it! Are you trying to put me into a constant state of lust for you?”

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. She could still feel him hard against her stomach.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Well you don’t have to try. I’ve been in a constant state of lust for you for a very long time.”

The teasing look on his face dropped off and he stared at her slack jawed. “Really?”

She laughed. “Yes. So many things got in the way,” she said, laying her palm flat on his chest, drawing a gentle circle over his heart with her thumb. “You were… too important. Too important to me. Bellamy, I’ve loved you for so long.”

“I wish…” he started. When she looked up at his pause, he brushed her hair back then cupped her cheek, staring into her eyes. Emotions flitted across his face, shadows, sadness. “How much time have we wasted, Clarke?”

She didn’t want him to be sad, so she reached around and grabbed his ass. “A lot. You want to end that and do me before you go hunting?”

He laughed and swallowed and held her back by her shoulders. “Wedding first.”

She sighed and walked away from him. “Okay,” then she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra, slipping it off her shoulders.

He whirled away from her, staring into the empty corner of their room. “Clarke,” he choked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go wash up,” then slipped off her underwear. “Wanna come?”

“Clarke…”

“You can turn around Bellamy. You’ve already seen me naked.”

“That wasn’t real.”

“You are one stubborn ass,” she sighed. Then she walked up to him, kissed him between his shoulder blades. A lovely spot, smooth and muscular and blessedly free from scars. “This is real, you know. All of it. How I feel about you. I’ve wanted this for so long, Bellamy.”

He nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Me too, but it wouldn’t have happened without that council forcing us.”

She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “If you had kissed me, it would have. Why didn’t you kiss me?”

He sighed. “War, the mountain, grounders, grief, ALIE, more war. There was always something.”

“There was always something,” she agreed. “Always the wars and death and what came after. But you and I, we always remained.” He was silent then. 

She pressed her ear to his back and listened to his breathing, slow and measured. Maybe he needed to do some more thinking. She kissed him behind his ear and swept a hand down his spine. “Wait for me to get out of the shower, okay? I want to come with you to breakfast, but you’ve got me so turned on I need to take care of myself first.”

He made a strangled sound, but didn’t turn around. She grabbed a towel and sauntered off to their bathroom, frustrated and emotional, but as content as she could remember being in a long time. 

Breakfast went too fast before he had to go, but he made up for it with real little kisses and real sweet nothings in her ear, and when he kissed her goodbye it still set off the butterflies in her stomach but there was no shock, only happiness that she loved him and he loved her back.

She met Jasper’s eyes, and he nodded his approval. “That’s more like it.”

Clarke didn’t have much time to think about Bellamy after that, which was pretty impressive because until the grounders filtered into the meeting room and Clarke’s first round of impressionable young people came in behind them, and she had to wrangle them all and intervene and get them settled into their first inter cultural educational groups. She wondered more than once why she had been placed between the two groups, but then she’d see Kane standing on the look out, watching her from afar, and remember that he was training her. She would’ve rolled her eyes if she weren’t concerned someone would take it the wrong way. 

Bellamy did not make it back for lunch. Raven eased down onto the seat next to Clarke. 

“Where’s your hubby?” she said. “Recovering from your night with him last night?” She grinned at Clarke. 

Clarke took a drink of her iced tea. They’d had such a good night last night, after everyone left. They’d found peace in each other’s arms and slept so deeply, so well. She smiled and shook her head. “We haven’t yet,” she said.

“What now?” Raven raised her eyebrows and leaned in, her expression not playing. 

“We’re going to wait,” Clarke said, not meeting her eyes.

Raven hauled off and punched her on the arm.

“What the hell, Raven!”

“Why are you not on that?” she hissed, pinching Clarke’s inner arm and slanting her eyes at all the possible listeners. “What? This is not acceptable.” She stood up and hauled Clarke to her feet. 

“I was still eating Raven.”

Raven reached down and grabbed Clarke’s half eaten sandwich and stuffed it into Clarke’s hand. Then looked around the cantina to catch Murphy’s eye. “Take care of this for me,” she told him, nodding at the trays that needed to be returned. Murphy nodded slyly, like he was in on the plan. Clarke gave him a dirty look which made him smile. She gave Raven a dirty look, too, but Raven ignored it and pulled her out of the cantina with her. 

“Raven, I talked to him like you said. Everything is fine, don’t worry.”

She stopped and whirled around on Clarke. “No. It is not fine. I have had enough of the two of you pretending you aren’t head over heels in love with each other. I’m not going to let you two martyr yourselves over this stupid…” she paused and narrowed her eyes at Clarke, omitting the word ‘fake.’ “Marriage.” As if her entire conversation wasn’t inappropriate to have in public.

Clarke grabbed Raven’s arm and yanked her around the edge of a building. Raven tripped and clung to her shoulder to catch herself. “Shit, sorry,” Clarke said. She forgot sometimes that Raven needed to be more conscious of her movement with the nanite brace. 

“You should be sorry,” Raven hissed at her, clearly ignoring the stumble and shoving Clarke into the wall instead. “End this now.”

“It’s ended Raven. No. No. It’s just begun.” She took a deep breath. “I love him. He loves me.” Raven stepped back to examine her. 

“No more crying?”

Clarke laughed. “Not over whether he loves me or not. He loves me. We’re together.”

Raven looked at her suspiciously. “So then why didn’t you have sex? I know you want to.”

Clarke sighed. “Because—“ there was a loud commotion at the front gate. The alarm bell clanged. Clarke and Raven hurried out to see.

“Looks like your husband’s back from his hunting trip,” Raven said, but Clarke didn’t have the room to let herself be glad that he was home, not with the alarm sounding. She found herself running to the gate.

“What is it? What is the alarm for?” She ran to Bellamy and he caught her, holding on and grinning at her. 

“It’s okay, Clarke, it’s not an emergency.”

“THE HELL IT’S NOT AN EMERGENCY!” Octavia climbed down from the alarm platform and stalked over to Clarke. “You got married without me!! WHO THE HELL MADE YOU THINK THAT WAS OKAY!!”

“I told you, Octavia, we didn’t have a choice. It was a matter of our alliance,” Bellamy wrapped his arm around Clarke’s waist. “It wasn’t about you at all. I wish you could have been there.”

Octavia stilled and narrowed her eyes at Bellamy. “What sort of game are you playing, Bellamy?”

“I would like to have a conversation about this alliance myself.”

For the first time, Clarke noticed that the crowd around the open gate was not just the returned hunting party, but also a group of travelers, dusty and well worn. Horses were being led off to the stables. 

“Roan,” Clarke said. “What are you doing here?” She clutched at Bellamy’s bicep and felt his tension.

“I was meeting with Luna about working with her people when the news came that you and Bellamy had married and joined an alliance with the new coastal coalition. Luna and I were both concerned, of course, but Octavia here demanded we end our summit and ride for Arkadia right away. As King of The Azgeda, I agreed with her that I should find out what you were up to with the tribes, immediately.”

Bellamy glared. “You all knew we needed to be allies with our neighbors. This isn’t a surprise.”

Clarke thought he particularly glared at Roan. 

Roan narrowed his eyes at Bellamy. “The wedding was a surprise though.”

“It wasn’t a real wedding!” Octavia shouted.

Bellamy and Clarke froze. 

“If I wasn’t there, then it doesn’t count!” She stared, her chin thrust out and her hand reaching for a knife that was no longer at her hip, now that she was Luna’s second. 

Abby and Marcus chose that moment to walk up to the gate, with Raven. “We would have called for you, Octavia, but things were time sensitive and they demanded the ceremony immediately, in order for the necessary alliance to be finalized,” Abby tried to soothe her.

“We’re just lucky that the coalition accepted that Bellamy and Clarke,” Kane paused for emphasis, “were already engaged and a marriage between them would suffice.” 

Octavia took a breath to retort and then snapped it shut with an audible click, as she shot her glance between the four of them. 

Clarke laughed, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt, her eyes on Octavia. “They actually thought I was going to marry Roan and ally with the Azgeda,” the laugh at the end sounded forced even to her ears.

Roan slanted his eyes at her and Bellamy. “We are all relieved that a marriage alliance between the king of The Azgeda and The Wanheda is no longer on the table.” he said in his low voice. All the new grounders in the gathering crowd watching him warily. 

“What do you mean, ‘no longer on the table’?’” Bellamy growled.

Roan smiled. “Your coalition was not the only body of leaders pushing for a contract alliance. I told them that Wanheda was already attached to Belomi Klir Skai, but they did not accept my word. They thought I was trying to avoid marriage and my responsibility.”

Bellamy’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, well, now it’s off the table.”

Roan smiled again. Bellamy’s jaw clenched again. Clarke pinched his side, but instead of snapping him out of it, he just pulled her closer and narrowed his eyes at Roan.

“I am afraid that The Azgeda council will not accept the trikru singers as objective evidence. They need to see it for themselves, in order for this to be over and allow us to move on to other options.”

“I swear to god, you grounders make us jump through hoops!” Bellamy’s frustrated growl broke through.

“Bellamy,” Clarke said, sliding her hand up his chest. She loved touching him like this, loved being able to do it in front of everyone and having him believe that it was real. His heart beat hard beneath her palm, a fine tremble going through his chest. “Bellamy, they need evidence that we are married.”

He looked down at her finally, breaking his glare at Roan. 

“We’re going to have to have another marriage ceremony with Roan as witness.” She did not smile, she worked very hard not to smile about another marriage ceremony in front of every one, Skai Kru, Azgeda and their new grounder citizens. 

“Oh not me, Wanheda, I believe you. The Azgeda singer. He was with me to witness our agreements with Flokru and demanded to come with me to see that this marriage was not some sort of sham to get out of allying with my people.”

“That’s it,” Abby spoke up, much like she had with the ambassador a few days ago. “Clarke and Bellamy have been through enough forced evidence of their connection. We’re not doing anything—“

“Mom,” Clarke interrupted. “It’s okay. We’ll do it again for the Azgeda. Because our marriage was definitely intended to keep us from becoming Azgeda. Or any other grounder tribe. We’re Sky people, and we want to be your allies, all of you,” Clarke said turning to Miko and Mila and Roan and Roan’s scowling singer and all the rest. “But we won’t be your possessions. We belong to our selves and we will be your friends, and your allies. We will become one people.”

“I won’t get married for them, Clarke,” Bellamy said.

Clarke turned on him and pierced him with a fierce glare.

“But I’ll get married for you and me.”

“You’ll get married for me, big brother,” Octavia demanded.

“And for her,” he nodded his head at Octavia. 

Clarke breathed a relieved sigh. 

“And for us,” Raven threw in, grinning at the both of them. “You owe us a wedding.”

“For our people,” Bellamy said. 

“I don’t want anymore of this negotiating or talking or arguing about it either. I’m sick of this negotiation. I’m sick of you two and your mess.” Octavia snarled, as if she couldn’t quite give up being mad that they had gotten married without her. “Fix it. Now. No stalling. I want this marriage tonight.”

Bellamy pulled Clarke back into his chest, and she could scarcely breathe with the happiness filling her. He raised his eyebrows at her, a small tentative smile finally curling the corners of his lips.

“What do you say, Clarke? Marry me tonight?”

Clarke laughed. “Yes,” she said and pulled him down into a kiss that was decidedly not political.

When they pulled apart, Octavia was staring at them, her face fully puzzled. “What is happening here?”

Raven sidled up to her. “Finally. That’s what’s happening.”

Riders were immediately sent out to the near villages to invite them to the celebration. The new alliance made them one people and it was time to start including them, and the Arkadians immediately went into action. Apparently they too had felt cheated at being denied the experience of Clarke’s and Bellamy’s wedding. 

Bellamy tried to protest that they had too much to do for a big production, it could just be quiet, but Octavia shushed him and started pushing him off, so she could get him ready.

“If you ask me,” Jasper said, while setting up the sound system, “We should make this a week long celebration. It certainly took long enough.” Clarke wanted to argue that would be a ridiculous waste of resources, but Marcus and Abby looked like they were considering it.

“They did bring us peace and an alliance.” Marcus stroked his beard.

“And it is just about a year since the Ark landed,” Abby said, looking far too pleased with herself.

Clarke took a breath to moderate this excessiveness, but Raven yanked at her arm, sweeping her off into her own room where she swore she had the perfect thing for Clarke to wear. It was a sky blue silk kimono, found buried in a basement somewhere, delicate and embroidered with pink and white flowers, and Raven draped the robe over her, tying it with a lace scarf, tight around the waist. Her mother came soon after gave Clarke her father’s ring to give to Bellamy. 

“I’m sorry everything was so rushed again,” Abby said. “I’m sorry you have to do this again.”

“I’m not,” was all Clarke said as she beamed up at her mother. They put a wreath of tiny white flowers on top of her loose hair and then it was sunset.

The sky was tinged with peach, and Abby walked Clarke through Arkadia. The bonfires were lit with fragrant branches, and flower garlands and ribbons and strings of lights hung from every post over her head. Someone had pulled out the ancient piano, and was playing a joyful song as she passed by the smiling faces of all her friends, her people, the villagers from the surrounding lands who she’d come to know. These were her people. And she was home. She sighed with relief.

And then she was through the crowd, and there was Bellamy, smiling at her. This time he was dressed in soft woven pants and a shirt that she didn’t recognize. They were so light tan as to be nearly white, and he wore a wreath with the same tiny white flowers as she wore. When Clarke stood in front of Bellamy, everything else faded away, and she only saw him, his warm eyes and his open smile. 

She wasn’t supposed to, but she reached up and touched the flower wreath lightly. “I like it.”

He cocked his head at her. “I like you.” She though he would kiss her, and she really wanted him to, but instead, Marcus began the ceremony and they had to be good.

His eyes sparkled and caught the setting sun and when Kane spoke the traditional words of the Arkadian ceremony, Clarke didn’t even listen. They repeated the oaths. The words didn’t matter. Who spoke them didn’t matter. They weren’t what connected her and Bellamy. She knew that even without any ceremonies, they had always been heading here. It felt inevitable now. 

But all the same, when she placed her fathers ring on Bellamy’s hand, and Bellamy slid a delicate vine shaped ring onto hers, when Kane declared them partners in life it felt as if there had been a point to all the pain and suffering. “Yes,” she said in front of her people, and ‘yes’ is what her soul said. 

When she stepped into Bellamy and he kissed her. It felt like home. And then the people of her home cheered and welcomed them. Bellamy didn’t let her go, as the crowd surrounded them and offered their best wishes. It felt so natural to be there in his arms in front of everyone, even if she still felt like making a face each time they called them Mr and Mrs Griffin-Blake. But the more she heard it, as they sat around the bonfire, under the brilliant sky, the last streaks of orange fading as the blue deepened and the stars appeared, the more that, too, felt right.

It was full dark, and Bellamy was reclining against the arm of their bench in front of the bonfire, with Clarke against his side, her head on his shoulder and his fingers combing through her hair. As the couple of the week, they warranted pillows and fur throws. The normally barebones bench now felt like a throne, and perhaps they’d had just enough wine to enjoy it. There was just enough happiness woven around them, as their friends danced and laughed, all the leaders ranged around them, with strict instructions not to talk business for just this night, that just for just this moment, everything was perfect.

“There is just one more detail we need to talk about.” 

The voice was a stranger’s, and immediately set Clarke’s nerves on edge. The Azgeda singer stood behind King Roan, who had been talking quietly with Raven. Roan’s face dropped into a stiff mask.

“We will need to have proof that the marriage is consummated,” the singer went on, “that the bond is true and not yet another plot against The Azgeda.” 

Clarke felt Bellamy stiffen against her body.

“This has already been witnessed by Odun, the most respected elder,” Mila declared.

“I assure you, as a fellow singer, their bond is true.” Miko added, sounding offended that he would be doubted. The Azgeda singer glared back at Miko.

“Absolutely not,” Abby stood up shaking her head and Kane stood next to her, “They have proved enough. They are done.”

Neither Clarke nor Bellamy protested, though. Clarke sat up and turned to Bellamy, his body gone rigid. His hands clenched into fists and his jaw ticking. Clarke sat up and turned to face him. He stared off into the fire.

“Hey,” she told him softly. He didn’t respond. “Hey.” She brushed his hair back and turned his face towards her. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out, okay? You and me.” He looked at her, but his eyes were panicked. He breathed out and she clutched at his hands.”It’s okay. You and me.”

“None of you can be seen as objective witnesses. You are all biased against the great Azgeda and you have been conspiring against us for too long.”

The fire crackled and the silence stretched out too long. Clarke turned around to face the man and took a breath to speak, Bellamy’s hand still clutching hers.

“And me?” Roan spoke first. “Do you doubt my statement of evidence?” The words were drawled, casually, but the Azgeda singer froze.

“No my king. No of course not,” he rushed. “But you were with the Flokru when the messengers were sent singing of the marriage of Wanheda and Klir Skai. You cannot be a witness to their wedding.”

“We are all witnesses to their wedding,” Roan said. “We saw it here. You, yourself.”

“She was meant to bring her power to The Azgeda, my king.”

“She will. I mean to make Wanheda, and Klir Skai, and the rest of the Skai Kru our allies. And the knowledge and strength they have will make us all stronger. And I mean to start our alliance with trust, respect, and human dignity.”

“But you cannot prove that they will not break their bond and ally with our enemies. You have no evidence of this.”

Roan stood straight and looked only at Bellamy. Bellamy blinked, but looked back.

“I do. I have witnessed the lengths to which Bellamy will go for his love of Clarke. And I have witnessed the unshakeable love that Clarke holds for Bellamy, the even in deep peril, even against the entire world.” Beside her, Bellamy nodded slightly at Roan, and Roan returned his acknowledgement, equals. Roan turned to face the Azgeda singer, and stepped between the man and Clarke and Bellamy. “If you want the story of the true love of Wanheda and her husband Klir Skai to sing, if you want this to be your legacy among all who dwell on the ground, then you will leave them be, and you will be silent and listen to me.”

The singer gaped at Roan. Raven stood up next to Roan, looking up at him for one second before nodding. “I’ve seen it, too. I’ve seen how they could take down a mountain, free the enslaved, together.”

“Me too,” Murphy said. “And me,” Monty stood up next to them. One by one, all their people stood there between them and the singer. Until the singer closed his gaping mouth and sat, agreeing. The crowds gathered, and the story began. 

The story of them. 

Bellamy pulled Clarke back into his embrace, and she could feel him shaking. She wanted to comfort him, but Jasper leaned over and hissed at them.

“Get out of here. Go home. You don’t need to be here for this. It’s not about you anyway. It’s about this damn story. You’re Clarke and Bellamy, not Wanheda and Klir Skai. Go be married. You’re free.”

He shoved them off into the crowd, and the Arkadians all let them pass with nothing more than smiles, and maybe a tear here and there, until they were at the quiet of their door.

They went inside and there was peace. Clarke shut the door and immediately turned to Bellamy.

“Are you okay?”

He swallowed heavily. “I don’t know. I panicked. I’m sorry.”

Clarke shook her head and smiled although it didn’t feel like a smile, it felt sad and sorry. “Don’t be, Bell. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair to you. To use you like this, like a tool for politics and I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were being used, too.”

Clarke felt her eyebrows draw together. She shook her head. “No, Bellamy. If they had made me marry Mila, or Miko, just for that alliance, then I would have felt like I was being used. Sold. But you…” she placed her two palms on his chest. He was so wonderful. He was so strong. So dependable. “…You wouldn’t let them. You protected me. And I know that’s your thing. You protect everyone. You’ve saved my life so many times—“

“You’ve done the same.” 

Clarke nodded fiercely. “Because that’s who we are. To each other. We are partners. We’re together. But that, it wasn’t my life that was in danger, it was my heart. It was my soul. And you put yourself between me and danger.”

“You act like I was being selfless,” he snorted. “I couldn’t let you go. I couldn’t let them have you. You’re mine. I was being selfish and possessive, and I had no right.”

She shook her head again and clutched at his shirt. There were little embroidered flowers in it, all in white. When she looked up at him, he was staring down, seriously, sad. Regretful. “No Bellamy, you did have a right. You were standing up for us. They had no right to use me like that. They had no right to tear us apart.” She pulled him closer.

“We weren’t together,” Bellamy said and she twisted her hands in his shirt. He narrowed his eyes at her and removed her hands from his shirt. “Please don’t hurt the shirt, Clarke. Octavia made it for me. Luna had her sewing nets to help with her anger until Octavia showed her what she could do with embroidery. This was her apology to me. It’s important.”

Clarke nodded sharply. Then began unbuttoning the shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to hurt the shirt. It’s beautiful.”

“But you don’t mind hurting me,” he teased. 

She shot him an angry look. He still wore scars from when Octavia beat him. He was protecting the shirt she made him as an apology. Clarke swiftly finished unbuttoning the shirt and stripped it off of him, folding it and draping it over the back of the chair. 

She turned back to Bellamy, shirtless now, his arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging. He bit his lip as he stared down at her, eyes heated. They were married now, and it was real. And they both knew what he had promised. 

But Clarke was not done.

“Tell me again that we were not together.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes and scoffed, dropping his arms to his side. “Come on Clarke. We both know we were not together. We know that was an act.”

Clarke was surprised at the tears that rose so swiftly. “You’re going to say that with everything we’ve been through, that we were not together?”

She watched the memories of the past year play over his face. His eyebrows drew together and he took a step towards her. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. But you know we weren’t together like that, the way your mother said we were.”

Clarke nodded. “I asked her why she said that.” She laughed at the memory. “She got impatient with me. She said it was like you said, that it would have happened anyway.”

He shook his head. “I was just saying that for the lie, to make it believable.”

The tears spilled over and fell down her cheeks. She was so mad at him. She slapped at his chest and then regretted it. He looked down at her with amusement, but it was wrong anyway. She pressed a kiss to the spot, laid her hand on it, as if she could take it back. He was always being hurt. He was always letting himself be hurt.

She stepped away but he held onto her arms, not letting her go far. “Bellamy, my mother said that we were already married.” His chest expanded with the breath he took and his amused grin fell away. “In all the other ways, Bellamy. We were already together. I don’t know why it took us so long to get here, but maybe we were already on the edge of that next step when we walked into that negotiation. I know I was already in love with you. And you… you were already in love with me?” Her statement turned into a question, because she realized that even now, she wasn’t sure.

He winced, like the question hurt him. “Yes,” he whispered. “Of course I was in love with you. I am. I love you.”

She breathed in relief. She shouldn’t be relieved, but she was. “Okay.” She smiled wiping away the tears. She’d lied to Raven about not crying over whether he loved he or not, apparently. She pushed it down. “And you weren’t going to let me sell myself for that alliance. We have done so many things for our people, Bellamy, sacrificed so much, risked ourselves, but you wouldn’t let me hurt myself like that.”

“No, we would have found another way to get that alliance, or done without it. We would have walked away.”

Clarke laughed. “Bellamy, I would have packed everybody in Arkadia up and trekked across a continent before I let Azgeda or the coalition or anyone else force you into a marriage for an alliance, to sell your body. That is not what this is with us. I wouldn’t let it happen to you, because I love you.”

He nodded silently, chewed on his lip and looked away.

“I don’t think I recognized how hard this was for you, because of your mom, because of what happened on the Ark. All I knew was that I was terrified of being forced into a marriage with someone I didn’t love, and all I wanted, in that moment was to be with you. I wanted you. You were mine and the worst part of their idea was that it would take me away from you, and when I was given you instead, everything was okay.” Clarke stopped. “Oh,” she said. “I get it now.” She stared.

“You’re right, Clarke. This was the best thing that could have happened.”

“No,” Clarke said, stepping back. Horrified. 

“What? No, you’re right. It would have happened anyway.”

“Bellamy. People aren’t gifts. You were given to me. My mother picked you. The ambassador approved you. I accepted you. None of it was your choice, what you wanted. You stepped in front of the sword again. Fuck.” She was abruptly as angry as she was sad. “Stop throwing your body into danger for people, Bellamy. I fucking care about you and you deserve to be put first. What you want is important. You.” Clarke closed her eyes. “And I’ve been here trying to convince you to have sex with me. Oh my god.” She walked away from him.

“Where are you going Clarke?” There was a note of panic in his voice. 

“I need to…” she walked into the bedroom and sat on the bed.

Bellamy followed, and sat down on the bed next to her. “What’s going on here?” he asked her, taking her hand and holding it between his in his lap.

Clarke sighed and looked at him. “Still trying to take care of people? I was supposed to be comforting you, and now you are comforting me.”

“I’m always going to take care of you Clarke, I don’t know how not to.”

“Bellamy, I got what I wanted. I wanted you. And I’ve been trying to convince you that you should want me, too.”

“I do want you.”

“But not like this.” 

He blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know Bellamy. Maybe we should start over. I can move in with with Raven or something.”

He was suddenly on the floor, kneeling in front of her, one arm on either side of her hips on the bed. “What the fuck? No. You’re not going anywhere. You’re my wife.”

“Only because we were forced to marry. We should go back to you kissing me on the forehead and saying goodnight instead of inviting me in to sleep with me. Meeting for lunch. Having some moonshine together after a mission? Like before. We can try that. I can sleep on Raven’s couch for a while, and let us get to the know each other before we decide to try doing this marriage for real. We’ll go back and start over.”

His face darkened. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re not moving out, Clarke. You’re not leaving me again.”

“I’m not leaving you Bellamy, I’m giving you what you need. Time. A real choice. Proof that our relationship is not about some stupid alliance. That we’re real. I believe in us and we’ll be back together in time.”

“Fuck that, Clarke. I don’t want to start over again and I don’t want to watch you walk away. I want you here. With me. Okay? I want that.” He took her hand again between his, his thumb caressing the back of her hand.

“Bellamy…” They’d been here before. Him kneeling in front of her and her with her heart in her eyes.

“No hand cuffs, Clarke. I’m not going to make you stay. And you’re not making me stay, okay?” She ducked her head. That was exactly what she had been thinking. He put a finger to her chin and tilted her head up. “See? I know you. We don’t need to get to know each other. We don’t need to start over. Or go backwards. I need you here. I need you.”

She nodded. She heard. She held onto his hands. “I love you, Bellamy,” she said and sighed. “But you’re right. I sold myself to Lexa.”

“I never said that.”

“I sold myself to keep you and Arkadia safe. I stayed in Polis so she would protect you.” She nodded wanting him to understand. He was the same. She knew he would understand. “But when I fell in love with her, it wasn’t part of that negotiation.” He caught her eyes and wouldn’t look away. “And when we made love, it wasn’t a transaction. All of that was over. I was coming home. It was a goodbye, to say I loved her, we loved each other.” His thumb stroked circles on her wrist. “I need you to know. I didn’t whore myself to Lexa.”

“I know, Clarke.”

“And I don’t want you to feel like a whore with me.”

“I don’t.” His looked down, away from her. “I did.” Clarke held onto his hand. “It felt…like the Ark. When we had to consummate our alliance with Odun watching. I felt like a whore and I tried to protect you from feeling like that.”

Clarke closed her eyes. She would have been happy any way she could have had him, but she was not him. “I didn’t feel that way and I don’t want that with us, Bell. This is not a transaction. This is a confirmation of who we are.”

“You know who we are, Clarke? We’re the people who would do anything to save their people. Who would sacrifice their happiness, or their bodies, or their lives for their people.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s not such a bad thing if we prostitute ourselves so that our people can survive. I’ve seen a lot worse reasons to have sex. Maybe I just wasn’t expecting it. I should have been expecting it.”

“No, Bellamy, I don’t want you to sacrifice your happiness. This is it. This is us getting to be happy. This is what makes life worth surviving. Going to Azgeda, or marrying Mila, that would have been the sacrifice. Losing you—“ suddenly, Clarke could not continue. “Marrying you,” she sighed, emotions rising in her chest, making it hard to talk, “is like coming home. You are my home.” 

He blinked and stroked her face. A smile curving his lips. “I’m not going to stop taking care of you, Clarke. I will continue to throw my body in front of that sword for you.”

“Let me take care of you, too.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “ If we had to go back to that negotiation, I’d marry you again, Clarke. Whatever it took to keep you safe.”

She wrapped a hand around his neck. “What about you Bellamy? What if I refused because I don’t want to make a whore of you?”

He looked shocked. “Screw that. No. You have to. You’re…my wife. I’ll do whatever I have to for you. Okay?” His face softened. His fingers combed her hair back. “I need you. We need each other, Clarke. We belong together.”

She nodded and licked her lips. “I agree. We belong together, but maybe we wait. Maybe we slow down.”

“Slow down?”

“I don’t want to feel like you are selling yourself, Bellamy. We are together no matter what. We’re partners. We love each other. So maybe we wait until you know it’s something you want, for yourself. Because I want you to come first. I want you to decide what you do with your body.”

He sat back on his heels. “You’re talking sex.”

Clarke pressed her lips together. Afraid that this would be his breaking point. She nodded.

“Sex is going to be a problem.”

“It’s okay, Bellamy. I understand. I’ll wait for you, until you’re ready. Or if you’re never ready. It’s okay, because we are who we are to each other.”

“No, you don’t understand.” This time when he surged forward, he didn’t stop at the edge of the bed and he crowded her until she lay back, his arms on either side of her trapping her. He hovered above her. “You are not the problem. Those negotiations were the problem. You… I want you.” He kissed her, touching nothing but his lips to hers. He pulled back and she rose up to chase his lips, but he put his large hand to her waist and kept her down. “I’ve always wanted you. I wanted those negotiations away from us. Because that wasn’t us, and maybe I got confused about what we were.” 

“I won’t hurt you, Bellamy,” she said, reaching up and combing her fingers through her hair.

“Don’t make that promise, Clarke. None of us can promise that. Promise to love me, and believe in me, to trust me, to respect me.”

“Oh, Bellamy, I promise all of that and more. I promise to always talk to you first, and care for you, and love you, and when I make a mistake, I will do my best to fix it, to make amends and to do better.”

“I don’t think anyone can expect anything more. I swear, I’ll trust you Clarke. I know you, I believe in you. You are always the center of my life. You are my other half. I am better with you in my life. Stay with me?”

“I’ll stay with you. I’m better with you, too. We belong together. I love you. Always.” 

“I love you, Clarke. I need you,” he dragged his hand down her side, “I want you.”

She smiled and licked her lips. “I want you, too.”

“Good, but what I want most is to see what is under this kimono. I want to put my hands on you. I want to put my mouth on you. I want to love you, Clarke.” He pulled the silk up her thigh and teased her with his fingers.

She pulled him down on top of her. “Love me, Bellamy,” she said, “and let me love you.” He sighed a breath of satisfaction and kissed her, deep and long. 

When he stripped the silk kimono from her, and pressed his naked skin against hers, they finished the oaths that they made to each other. 

These were the oaths that mattered.

finito

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your 20 page final chapter. It was a beast. Turns out, writing about weddings is boring. And writing about selling your body is complicated and morally delicate. Not even sure I managed right, but I made an attempt.
> 
> Oh and the one good thing about writing weddings is more wedding finery. I am not sorry. Here have another wedding dress. And flower crowns for everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> confession here: it's been really hard to write lately. whether it's because I just moved or my brain just not cooperating or "writer's block" or too much meta or just falling off of my writing practice, I find I kind of need the push of these prompts. I find the best way to deal with "writer's block" is to just push on through and keep writing, even if it's hard, or you have questions or it seems to go too slowly, so here I am pushing through. #amwriting
> 
> writing update: I might just have broken through my writer's block. The writing isn't necessarily going easily, but I am up to writing 1k-5k a day. I would be updating more frequently, but these chapters are long, involved monsters. So yeah. Hurrah. 
> 
> Lesson of the day, when you don't feel like you can write because you are stuck, just keep pushing through. Keep writing. Even if you don't use all of it, it gets the engine going. Show up to the page.


End file.
